


sacred new beginnings

by coffeecatsme



Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bondage, Din Djarin Needs a Hug, Eventual Happy Ending, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Grogu is Din's adopted son, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, Luke Skywalker Needs A Hug, Luke babysits Grogu, M/M, POV Multiple, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Switch!Din, TW: mentions of pedophilia, Teasing, Top!Luke, bottom!Din, bottom!Luke, switch!Luke, top!din, tw: mentions of panic attacks, we have a serious lack of switch Din and Luke in this fandom and i'm about to fix that
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 00:53:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 58,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28804623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeecatsme/pseuds/coffeecatsme
Summary: Luke realizes in about a second that he has a weakness, and it’s guys with kids. More specifically, hot dads who, by all accounts, look like they can rip off your head if you so much as look at them the wrong way, but who turn into a soft mush whenever their kid is around. And Din, sporting a black leather jacket and a whipped cream mustache at the same time, definitely fits the bill.Din Djarin is about to give up on finding a good babysitter for his adopted son, Grogu. He thinks it'll be impossible to find someone who can respond to Grogu's needs without hurting his kid even more than he's already been hurt. Enter Luke Skywalker, who not only seems to be perfect at handling Grogu's unique characteristics, but he might also be a perfect match for his father as well.
Relationships: Din Djarin & Grogu | Baby Yoda, Din Djarin & Grogu | Baby Yoda & Luke Skywalker, Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker, Grogu | Baby Yoda & Luke Skywalker, Leia Organa & Luke Skywalker
Comments: 363
Kudos: 1135





	1. brighter than the sun

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Grogulikesme](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grogulikesme/gifts).



> god i love this pairing so much. watch me spend my long weekend writing this instead of doing all the work i need to do. that said, thank you to Grogulikesme for requesting an AU and giving me an excuse to write one lmao, i'm so excited for y'all to see where this story will go!
> 
> title of the fic is from New Year's Day

Luke finds the posting at a Starbucks.

Yes, Starbucks is probably one of the worst places to look for a new job posting. Yes, even at first glance, the demands to even _apply_ to the job seems ridiculous. Yes, Luke should probably be spending more time online job hunting instead of sulking at Starbucks. Even with all that, Luke’s eyes catch the ad, and he rips it off of the notice board and tucks it in his pocket.

As well as the other two ads of the same job posted there.

Leia thinks it’s ridiculous. The job, the posting, it has to be a hoax. _No one pays a twenty-four-seven babysitter 12,000 bucks a month,_ she claims, and deep down, Luke knows she has a point. He also knows that no proper babysitter posting ever asks for a letter of recommendation and a short video introducing himself, as if he’s Elle Woods applying for college. Still, Luke’s good with kids, the job pays well, and it even offers a room all for himself at the house rent-free so he can stop crashing at Leia’s couch because he can’t afford to pay for his own place. If it is real, getting this job would be a dream come true.

_If_ it is real. Leia still isn’t sure, even though she does write him the “recommendation letter” and email it to _Din Djarin,_ the name on the posting, as is requested. She also badgers Luke to share his location when Din asks for an interview, just in case this Din person is a human trafficker or something and uses job postings to get to people. Luke is pretty sure she’s exaggerating. _Pretty_ sure.

So he shares his location and makes his way to the small café Din wrote down at his email, dressed in his sharpest clothes—meaning, a black jacket, white t-shirt, and dark jeans. Mentally, he’s reciting everything he knows about job interviews—and it is a _lot_ , considering he switched about five jobs in the last two years. He will go out there, meet Din, leave with a great first impression, and _finally_ land a job that will pay more than his daily coffee. Luke has a plan.

But of course, that plan is thrown out the window once he actually enters the café and his eyes find Din. Because _holy shit,_ the man is _hot._

Luke prides himself into being able to hold his composure in a myriad of situations. His sister is a congresswoman famous for chewing out her opponents while standing straight like royalty, and Luke likes to think he inherited at least some of the genes Leia did.

And he worked retail for a few months. That job alone teaches you how not to scream in pain every ten minutes.

Even with all that, Luke realizes in about a second that he has a weakness, and it’s guys with kids. More specifically, hot dads who, by all accounts, look like they can rip off your head if you so much as look at them the wrong way, but who turn into a soft mush whenever their kid is around. And Din, sporting a black leather jacket and a whipped cream mustache at the same time, definitely fits the bill.

Din, as if feeling Luke’s rising panic—or more likely just his presence in a mostly empty café—lifts his head, and his eyes meets Luke. He licks his lips to get rid of the whipped cream, missing a small spot on his _real_ mustache, and Luke feels the sudden urge to lick it away himself. 

He’s so _fucked._

* * *

If Din knew just how difficult it would be to find a proper babysitter for his son, he would’ve never even attempted. He’d hoped, by including a ridiculous amount of requirements, that he could weed out the worst of the applicants, and yet he’s met about thirteen babysitters, hired four of them briefly only to fire all in less than a week, and he wants to bash his head into a wall.

He probably would’ve, too, if it isn’t for the little guy currently sitting on his lap, his silver ball clutched between his sharp knuckles. He isn’t looking at Din, only watching the light dance on the shiny surface of the ball, and Din sighs.

“I’m sorry, kid,” he murmurs, hugging Grogu closer. “I know you’re sick of meeting babysitters.” Tension rolls off of Grogu in waves, but the kid doesn’t react at all, at least other than rolling the ball in his hand. Din knows that whatever babysitter he ends up hiring, Grogu won’t be happy. He wants his dad to stay at home to take care of him, or if that’s impossible, Auntie Cara or Uncle Greef can certainly step in. Grogu doesn’t want a babysitter.

Except if it was up to Grogu, he’d stay at home all day, in his safe space. It’s been a year since Din found and adopted him, and still the kid is hiding behind the walls he built for himself, refusing to open up to anyone. Even a trip to a café like this can be a lot to Grogu, and Din wants him to be more comfortable with strangers. He knows he can’t very well throw Grogu into a preschool and hope that will work.

But Grogu does need to get used to strangers, _staying_ with strangers when Dad or Auntie Cara or Uncle Greef is not around, and a babysitter seemed like a good middle ground to start with. Yet Din never imagined just how hard it would be to find a good babysitter for Grogu. Most applicants aren’t trained professionals and don’t understand Grogu’s needs, never mind being able to respond to them properly.

The last thing Din wants is to come home after a grueling day at work and find Grogu in the middle of a panic attack as the babysitter tries to hold him down. The mental image still makes Din shiver.

Din slips away from his thoughts when Grogu looks up at him, eyes wide and pleading. Din sighs. “I know you want me to stay with you, but I gotta work, kid.” Grogu, for a kid who doesn’t talk at all, is incredibly smart. He casts his eyes down again, looking at his silver ball. He’s disappointed, sure, but he understands Din. And maybe that’s the worst—if Grogu threw a tantrum, at least Din could be upset. The resigned silence just breaks his heart.

“How about I get you a milkshake?” he offers, knowing how much Grogu loves them. Grogu’s ears perk up and he glances at his father through his lashes.

Five minutes later, Din is sporting a whipped cream mustache smeared on his face by Grogu, who refused to drink the milkshake and instead used it to “teach” Din a lesson. As much as he wants to be angry at Grogu, his kid is giggling and it’s such a rare sight that Din lets it go.

At least until someone walks into the café and Din’s eyes find the familiar mop of blonde hair and bright blue eyes.

Din quickly licks away the whipped cream mustache, hoping he looks at least somewhat presentable to a potential employee. Hugging Grogu close, he stands up to meet the man, who seems to be frozen by the front door of the café, just staring at Din, face slightly flushed.

A feeling of warmth shoots through Din. Luke looks friendly, childish, hastily put together, as if he’s a high school student excited to get his first job. A far cry from some of the babysitter candidates Din interviewed. He looks down at Grogu and sees him stealing glances at Luke as well.

Grogu never looked at any of the other babysitter candidates.

Maybe, he thinks, it won’t be as impossible to find that perfect babysitter. 


	2. now i see daylight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so guess who wrote an entire chapter at midnight after saying she's done working on the story for now. so. here it is. i really enjoyed writing this one, so hope you like it too!
> 
> also, thank you to my beta, liz-ee on Tumblr. she's incredible and i'm so excited to have her help me on this story!
> 
> p.s. title is from daylight by taylor swift

Luke Skywalker is  _ nice. _

Out of every adjective Din can think of, that one feels the most appropriate, even though it’s probably too simple and vague to describe the man sitting across from him. Luke somehow reminds Din of a fresh-faced high school student—with his flushed face and blonde curls that seem to be against staying in one place—and a battle-hardened man at the same time. He’s a far cry from the smug, I-know-how-to-take-care-of-your-child-better-than-you people Din is tired of meeting.

Yes, Luke stumbles over his words half the time. Yes, by Luke’s own admission, he doesn’t know much about taking care of a kid, only having taken a few babysitting jobs during high school and looked after his nephew every now and then. Yes, Luke dropped out of college, out of the blue, to take a “spiritual journey” around the world, and his resume shows at least five different jobs over the last two years, which doesn’t strike much confidence.

But Luke is also the guy who kept his eyes away from Grogu pretty much the entire interview after quickly realizing that the kid doesn’t like to be stared at. Luke is the guy who, in the short video introduction he sent Din, let his nephew climb onto his lap and held him close so absentmindedly that it seemed second nature to him. Luke is the guy who saw Grogu stay pretty much hidden in his father’s lap the entire interview and instead of claiming how  _ rude  _ that was of him, he only laughed and joked about Grogu’s love for his silver ball.

Luke is nice and sweet and while it’s clear he wants the job because of its pay and the room it offers—Luke let it slip at some point that he’s been crashing on his sister’s couch—Din is pretty sure he’d also make sure that Grogu is well taken care of.

Overall, Din has never ended an interview quite so optimistic. He smiles at Luke as he adjusts Grogu on his lap. “Thank you so much for coming, Mr. Skywalker.”

“Oh, of course. And please, call me Luke. I’m not old enough to be a mister yet.” He waves his hand in the air, offering Din one of his brilliant smiles, dimples on his cheeks. Din maybe stares a few seconds longer than he should.

“Right. Luke. I’ll call you as soon as I make a decision. It shouldn’t be later than a few days.” In his mind, Din is sure that he’ll hire Luke, but he wants to talk to his son first. He wants to know what Grogu thinks of Luke.

“Sounds good. Thank you for inviting me in for an interview. And bringing this little guy.” Luke turns his smile to Grogu, who keeps his eyes firmly locked on the silver ball. Din can feel the boy’s intrigue, but Grogu has never been good at keeping eye contact with people. Din tenses, expecting Luke to comment on it—even though nothing in the last thirty minutes indicated that Luke was that kind of a person—but instead Luke just laughs. “You know, I had a toy when I was really young. My father bought it for me. It was this blue laser sword—well, I called it a lightsaber. The lights on that thing were so bright that Leia would always complain when I played with it. I don’t have it with me now, but I did make a small keychain replica of it.”

Out of the blue, Luke takes out his keys and lights up a small toy sword that’s attached to them. Grogu, who always liked shiny things, immediately lifts his eyes when the light of the sword falls on his ball.

Din pretty much stops breathing. It’s the first time Grogu not only showed any interest to a stranger, but looked at them straight on. He drops the silver ball to his lap, which Din catches absentmindedly, and peers out from the crook of Din’s shoulder.

“You like it?” Luke asks, his voice somehow softer than ever. “You wanna try it? It’s really easy to operate, see? You just press the button at the end, and it turns on and off.” Din half expects Luke to reach out and try to hand it to Grogu, and he’s about to warn the man against it—Grogu doesn’t react well when strangers try to touch him in any way—but Luke takes the keychain off and places it in the middle of the table before he pulls back.

And Grogu—little Grogu, who never leaves his father’s lap when he’s in public—reaches up to the table to take the lightsaber, his tiny fingers immediately pressing to turn it on. He watches the light, fascinated, and then hums up to Din as if to show the new toy he acquired.

Grogu hums  _ when Luke is sitting right there, in hearing distance,  _ and Din is speechless. To Luke, it probably means nothing, but this… This is more than Grogu has ever done with a stranger. This is all Din wanted for his kid.

“You can keep it, Grogu,” Luke continues with a shrug. “I can always make another one.” Din looks up at him and Luke looks so innocent, as if he didn’t just get Grogu to miraculously open up to him. Luke’s eyes find his, and red blossoms on the man’s cheeks. “If that’s okay, of course. I mean, it just seemed like he likes shiny stuff, so I thought he’d like the lightsaber. It’s not like it costs much either, so it’s totally fine—”

“Luke.” Din’s voice cracks and he tightens his hold around Grogu to hide his shaky hands. He wants to explain to Luke what this means to him, explain how  _ incredible  _ and  _ amazing  _ and  _ brilliant  _ it is watching Grogu open up even a little bit, but he doesn’t have the words. He doesn’t think he’ll ever  _ find  _ the words. But he knows one thing. “How soon can you start?”

“Uh, what?” Luke is taken aback for a second. “You mean you want me to…?”

“You’re hired.”  _ There’s no question about it, really.  _ “The job’s yours. You know the terms, but, uh…” Din struggles to find the words, his mind still a jumble from what he had just witnessed. “But if there’s anything you want, we can talk about it. Your room at the house is ready, too. Just…whenever you want to move in.”

Luke blinks several times, eyes wide and hopeful. He looks just as lost for words as Din. “You don’t… You don’t need to think about it? You’re just…hiring me?” he asks, as if he’s questioning Din’s decision himself.

But Din doesn’t need to think any more. He already saw all he needed. “If you want the job, still,” he says quietly, praying to whatever God is up there that Luke says yes. He will never be able to find someone quite like him.

After a moment of excruciating silence, Luke smiles. “Yeah. I want it. The job.  _ Thank you. _ ” Din’s shoulders sag in relief, and his arms curl around Grogu.

He’s pretty sure he has tears in his eyes when his kid coos again, this time showing the lightsaber to Luke.

* * *

Luke is in a daze as he leaves the café, Din’s address written down in his phone, and the man’s number saved in his contacts. Never in his wildest dreams did he imagine he’d get the job right after the interview, especially after spending at least half of it starstruck, unable to put together a proper sentence.

His hands are shaky as he calls Leia. His sister answers on the second ring. “So, how badly did you fuck up this one?” she asks, her tone teasing. Another time, the jab would hurt, but Luke is in too much shock to care.

“Uh, Leia?” His voice is thin as he stops in front of his car. “I’m moving out on Friday.”

“What? Moving out?”

“I, uh…” He stares at the driver’s seat for a solid few seconds. “I got the job.”


	3. the road not taken looks real good now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> why do i keep writing this when i should be doing schoolwork? oh well. i actually really enjoyed writing this chapter, so hope you like it too!
> 
> as always, thank you to my beta liz-ee on Tumblr!
> 
> p.s. the title is from 'tis the damn season by Taylor Swift
> 
> p.s. 2. slight warning: mature language. not too often, but just thought i would put it there.

Cara arrives at Din’s place right as he’s getting ready to pick Luke up. She lets herself in with her keycard, finding the father-son duo in Din’s bedroom. She greets Din with a nod, then turns to the little kid. Grogu is sitting on the bed cross-legged and doesn’t even lift his head when Cara enters. The only indication that he knows she’s there is a small noise he makes at the back of his throat and his fingers opening up to reveal a small, shiny toy sword, as if he’s offering it to Cara.

“A new toy?” Cara asks, standing a bit away from the bed. “It looks really pretty.” Grogu hums in agreement, twisting the sword in his hand. His little fingers act like he’s slashing the sword through the air, and Cara laughs quietly.

“He’s been carrying it for two days,” Din explains, his words taking on that soft, caring tone he reserves for Grogu. “I think he forgot his silver ball even exists.”

“What a shame. It’s as if he didn’t try to eat the damn thing for about a month before he gave up. I hope the sword is faring a bit better.”

“Give it a few days and I’m sure I’ll find it in his mouth.” Din’s face softens as his eyes find Grogu, though his shoulders remain taut. It’s the same way Din always gets when he hires a new babysitter—always terrified of the myriad of ways they can hurt his baby boy. Cara almost wants to tell him to stop looking for one, but Din’s work is unpredictable and his small group of friends aren’t always reliable when it comes to stepping in. Never mind the fact that Grogu refuses to stay with anyone other than Cara and Greef if his father isn’t there. A babysitter would be the best solution…if any of the idiots Din hired knew anything about Childcare 101.

“How long do you think this one will last?” she teases, hoping it will at least get a laugh out of Din. Instead, the man stills, nails biting into his jacket.

“I don’t know.” Cara arches her brow. The longest she’s heard from Din was _two weeks,_ and even that turned out to be an overshot. “The laser sword is from Luke.”

“Luke—the new babysitter?”

“He put it on the table and Grogu took it.” It’s such a small thing, and it probably would’ve been nothing with someone else, but Cara’s eyes snap to Grogu as Din continues, “I think… I think this time he might last.”

That’s the last thing Din says before he grabs his car keys from the counter. Cara watches him leave and only turns to Grogu when the kid hums again, head now lifted a little bit. The lightsaber is placed in front of him, as if he wants Cara to take it and look at it.

She smiles at the kid and kneels next to bed. The sword is warm under her fingers, as if it’s been on for a long time. “So,” she murmurs, stealing a glance at Grogu, “this is from Luke, huh?”

For once, Grogu doesn’t wince at the mention of a babysitter’s name.

* * *

“So, let me get this straight.” 

Luke sighs as he throws another bundle of clothing over his suitcase, not even looking away from the closet. 

“This guy, Din Djarin _—”_

“You don’t have to say his name as if he’s the spawn of Satan.”

“ _Din Djarin,_ ” Leia emphasizes even more, earning a secret eye roll from Luke. If she wasn’t helping him pack—Leia is a million percent better at packing an impossible amount of stuff in suitcases—Luke would’ve already kicked her out of the room, “offered you an interview for an _insane_ babysitting job, hired you on the spot after claiming he needed time to think about it, and now he’s offering to come get you from your house in case you can’t drive over there?”

“Yes, Leia.” He sends another t-shirt flying to the bed. “That’s exactly what—”

“Never mind the fact that”—she interrupts before Luke can finish—“his house looks like he’s some sort of a billionaire and your room at the damn place is bigger than my living room.”

“He’s offering me twelve thousand dollars amonth. What, did you think he was struggling for money?”

“But that’s even _worse!_ If he’s filthy rich, he could literally get anyone as a babysitter. He could hire professionals—people who actually would probably _expect_ that kind of a salary. And he goes with an inexperienced twenty-eight-year-old who probably would’ve said yes to minimum wage?”

“ _Leia_.”

“You know what I mean, Luke.” Her voice is soft and Luke turns to her, watching her tuck his clothes neatly in the suitcase. He knows she means no harm with her questioning—she’s just outspoken. She’s been in the political scene for too long for her own sake, even for someone in her late twenties. “I want to make sure this job isn’t some sort of a trap. You know rich people and their…twisted interests. What if he wants something else from you?”

“I highly doubt that. You know I met him, right?”

“For an hour long interview. That’s barely enough time to get to know someone—”

“It’s enough for me.” Luke steps away from the closet and sits next to his sister on the bed. “I saw how he is with his son. I saw how much Grogu loves and trusts his father. If he meant ill, I doubt the kid would feel so comfortable with him.” Leia still doesn’t look convinced.

“Well, yes, but…” Leia bites her lip, looking younger than ever with her messy bun and baggy leather jacket she probably stole from Han. “Can you promise me you’re not taking this job just for the money? Father is rich; he wouldn’t leave you high and dry. And our house is always open to you.”

Luke thinks back to the interview, and heat rises to his cheeks. Sure, the salary was what attracted him to the job at first, but if he has to be honest, Leia is right—he would’ve taken the job even if it was minimum wage. But…

Din just might be the hottest dad in the city _,_ and Luke is self-aware enough to admit he might have a _teeny tiny_ crush on him. It also helps that Grogu seems to be a sweet kid, and Luke is already thinking of a myriad of ways to have fun with the little kid while making sure he’s comfortable. It’s clear that Grogu isn’t a big fan of social interactions, but that doesn’t mean Luke can’t adjust to Grogu’s comfort zone while making sure the boy is having fun and growing. In fact, Luke had already bought a bunch of small lights yesterday so they can make lightsabers together, in all the colors of a rainbow. Luke can’t wait for Grogu’s reaction when he sees them.

“It’s not just that,” he admits to Leia, hoping he doesn’t look as red as he feels. “I have a good feeling about this. About them. I think… I think it might be good for all of us, you know?” He then grins at his sister to lighten the mood a bit. “Besides, aren’t you happy that I’m getting out of your hair so you don’t have to worry about waking me up every morning?”

“Oh, that wasn’t a problem at all. I just didn’t care.”

Luke just laughs at her antics before going back to the closet to gather the last of his stuff.

* * *

Din arrives right as they carry the suitcases to the hallway. Luke feels Leia’s curiosity humming in the room as he opens the door. And he’ll deny that he forgets how to breathe for a few seconds as he eyes Din, who’s sporting another leather jacket on top of a band t-shirt, and who looks as dashing as Luke remembers him with his messy stubble, thin mustache, and untamed curls. His smile is soft, polar opposite to how he looks, and Luke can only let him in with a thin voice.

Leia only needs to take one look at Din before it dawns on her. She turns to Luke, arms crossed over her chest. “Not just about the money, huh?” she whispers in his ear before she moves to greet Din.

Luke hopes his cheeks don’t look as red as they feel.

* * *

Luke knows Din is at least somewhat rich. Maybe not, like, billionaire level, but he doubts anyone who doesn’t have millions lying around in their bank account would be able to afford to pay a babysitter more than ten thousand dollars per month. Deep down he knows all that, yet his mouth absolutely drops as Din drives through a gate the size of a damn two-story house, nodding to the bodyguards standing on either side.

Din doesn’t live in a _house._ Din lives on land the size of a golf field, complete with trees surrounding the road, small ponds and fountains scattered around the place, and Luke even sees a fucking farm and barn in the distance, with multiple people working on the fields for what looks like the year’s harvest. There are suburban houses all around, with their cozy gardens and large porches, and they pass multiple people walking around, all of them giving Din a small bow to show him respect.

“How rich _are_ you?” Luke blurts out before he can think, then he clamps his mouth shut. “Oh my God, I did _not_ just say that out loud.” He expects Din to get mad, but instead, the man just laughs. Luke realizes that he looks more relaxed than he’s ever seen him, as if this place is his _home,_ his safe zone.

“I didn’t get all of this myself. Most of it is inherited.”

“From your parents?” Din’s hands on the steering wheel tighten slightly.

“Family,” he says and leaves it at that. “On a pure technicality, I do own the land, but I opened it up to others. Most of the people you see here don’t have anywhere else to go. I just offer them a place to live and a salary to get them on their feet for their help around the land. They’re welcome to leave, but most choose to stay.”

“Oh.” Luke looks around again, seeing the unconditional respect and happiness on people’s faces. It sounds… _nice._ “And you’re still paying me to be a babysitter?” he can’t help asking, only semi-joking. Din’s shoulders drop slightly.

“I like to keep my home life private,” he simply says. “For Grogu’s sake.”

Luke thinks about how Grogu hid in his father’s jacket, and he nods. He doubts the little kid would enjoy the attention he no doubt would get if everyone here knew about him. He turns to look out again, watching as they approach what seems like one of the other two-story houses. Except then Din takes a sharp turn to a smaller, almost hidden road, and takes them downhill for about thirty seconds before they come into a clearing. Luke just watches the massive house approach, his stomach doing a quick flip. He feels like he’s somehow entering Batman’s house.

He wonders how wrong he actually is.

Din parks the car in a spacious garage, which somehow looks empty even though it fits the car and two other motorcycles, as well as a myriad of tools and knick-knacks that make it resemble a mechanic shop. He tries really hard not to stare at the myriad of helmets and what looks like _body armor_ lining the wall, and he pretty much blanches at the site of spears and knives and swords settled carefully underneath them. He barely notices Din stand right next to him and jumps when the man speaks. “They’re for decoration.”

“Oh.” Somehow, he doesn’t believe it, but Din is walking into the house and all Luke can do is follow him. For the first time, he wonders what exactly he’s walked himself into.

Maybe Leia was right. Maybe this job is some sort of a trap. But he looks up at Din, who’s patiently waiting for him by the door, and all he feels is warmth in his gut. He thinks of all the other people they passed by and their absolute respect for the man. Din might be an eccentric millionaire—billionaire? _Trillionaire?_ —but Luke doubts he means any harm by it.

“You have an interesting taste.” That’s all he says as he walks up to Din, earning a quick smile. And if his stomach swoops down with the twitch of Din’s lips, then _so be it._ It doesn’t mean he’s _blinded_ by the man’s charms.

Luke is not that stupid.

Right?


	4. the rest of the world was black and white, but we were in screaming color

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> watch me turn what was supposed to be a one shot or just like a three-four chapter story into a convoluted massive multichapter thing. just... sometimes, i hate my mind. 
> 
> anyway, thank you to my beta, liz-ee on Tumblr. she's been a great help and it's been amazing bouncing ideas with her. i wouldn't be able to put these chapters up just as quickly without her.
> 
> p.s. title is from Out of the Woods by Taylor Swift

Din lets Cara go once he and Luke are in after briefly checking in about how Grogu is doing. The kid apparently spent all morning playing with his lightsaber, absentmindedly watching a TV show, and Cara lets Din know there’s lunch in the kitchen. Din catches her glance curiously at Luke multiple times, though Luke seems to be completely unaware. His eyes are roaming around the spacious living room, on the multiple couches settled around a TV large enough to almost cover the entire wall, on the ten person dining table decorated with a rich cover and bright flowers, on the paintings and vases and expensive china smattered around the room, in cabinets, on cupboards, even on their own private stands sometimes.

_ How rich are you?  _ Din remembers Luke’s question and his shoulders tighten. Looking at his salary, no one would guess that he’d be able to afford a place like this. He doesn’t earn much working with the police, and that’s not his main source of income anyway. That’s just…a requirement to keep his  _ other _ position.

Luke doesn’t need to know that. He sighs, getting the man’s attention. “Your room is on the second floor,” he says, grabbing one of Luke’s suitcases and dragging it to the elevator. “The first floor is mainly the living room and the kitchen, and there’s a balcony with an ocean view around that corner. The main entrance is down the other hall and it opens up to a large garden. Downstairs there’s a gym and a small theater, as well as storage. There’s also an outdoor pool—you’re welcome to use any of it.”

“Outdoor pool?” Luke’s voice is thin and Din finds himself smiling.

“Olympic sized,” he shrugs, even though Luke’s eyes are wide as saucers, their blue shining under the morning sun. “If you don’t have any swimming trunks, let me know. I can get you some.”

Luke turns a deep shade of red and clears his throat. “It’s okay. I have… I have some.”

“Good.” The elevator dings, dragging them out of their thoughts. “Second floor is the bedrooms. My room is at the end of the hallway and Grogu sleeps with me most nights. He does have his own room, though, right next to mine. Yours will be the one closer to the stairs.” Din exits the elevator and immediately turns to his right, pushing open the door. He doesn’t miss Luke’s glance down the hallway, at the sheer  _ number  _ of doors lining the walls. There are a total of seven bedrooms, capable of housing twenty people if necessary, even though most days they stay empty. With Grogu around, Din doesn’t like to host guests.

“Um, Din?” Luke asks as he follows him into the room, his suitcase dragging behind him. He looks out of place standing by the door of the bedroom, curling into himself as if to look as small as possible in a room that would be big enough for three people. “What do you do for work?”

Din arches one brow. “I tell you about indoor gyms, Olympic sized pools, an  _ at home theater,  _ and you ask about my job when you see the  _ bedroom _ ?” he can’t help teasing. He finds that he likes the red on Luke’s cheeks. It highlights his eyes and the bright blonde shade of his hair, making him look like a beacon of light as opposed to Din’s dark clothes and demeanor. Luke curls his fingers around each other awkwardly.

“I mean, when you put it that way…” Din laughs and shakes his head. 

“I work with the police.” Luke’s eyes snap to him and they’re filled with disbelief. Instead of elaborating, Din just turns to the room, unable to stop his grin. Luke is adorable when he gets flustered, and he likes that it’s so easy for him to rile the boy up. He probably shouldn’t enjoy it considering Luke is his employee, but there’s…something about him. Something that Din can’t place that radiates warmth and friendliness; something that makes Din feel like he’ll be safe around him.

He just hopes Grogu feels the same way.

“Feel free to do whatever with your room,” Din then changes the subject, plopping the suitcase right next to the closet. “If you need any repairs or changes, let me know. I’ll get it done. And one more thing. Third floor is off limits.”

“You have  _ four floors _ ?” That’s not the answer Din quite expected, but the corners of his lips twitch. “I mean, of course you have four floors. Why wouldn’t you have four floors, on top of a pool and everything. And a view of the ocean. I should stop talking.” Luke presses his lips together, still awkwardly hovering by the door. Din is about to comment on it, but then he catches a familiar mop of hair by the doorway, and his heart stops.

“Grogu?” he calls softly, tilting his head to the side to get a better view of the door. Sure enough Grogu is there, peeking his head in, curiosity radiating off of him in waves. He still has his lightsaber clutched tightly in his hands. He doesn’t step into the room, opting to stand outside of it, but even the fact that he _came_ _out of his room_ to meet a babysitter…

“And here I was wondering when I’d see this little guy.” Luke’s voice is impossibly soft when he speaks, all of his previous awkwardness and hesitation apparently forgotten with the presence of the kid. “Do you like that lightsaber?” Luke’s face is turned to the kid, but his eyes are firmly focused on the lightsaber instead of the boy’s face. Deep down, Din thinks he should interrupt—there’s no telling what will trigger Grogu, and Luke is already toying around a limit. Yet, he can’t. He just watches Luke work his magic, getting Grogu to  _ interact  _ with him without pushing any of his buttons and without the kid looking one bit uncomfortable.

“What’s your favorite color?” Luke asks, and his hand goes to his pocket to take out what looks like multiple lights, just like the one on the lightsaber. He turns them on one by one, putting it on the floor in front of himself. “I brought these lights for us, and I was thinking we could make a lightsaber in your favorite color. To join that blue one of yours.”

Grogu slowly steps out of the doorway into the room, eyes glinting as he looks at the lights. He plops down a bit away from Luke, one finger pointing to the green one.

“Green, huh? You know, that’s my favorite color, too.” Luke gently pushes the green light to Grogu. “How about I finish here with your father and then we can make that lightsaber of yours? I have all the materials we need.”

Grogu doesn’t answer, but tilts his head curiously, and that seems to be an answer enough for Luke. He grins widely. “Perfect.”

Really, Din should’ve seen what would come next. The moment Grogu’s hand wraps around the light, Din should’ve known what would happen. Except he’s so enamored watching the scene unfold in front of him that he’s not fast enough to stop Grogu from biting into the light as if it’s food.

Luke makes a strangled noise behind his throat, hands twitching at his sides as if he wants to reach out to Grogu and take the light, but he stops short. “Grogu, that’s not food!” he whispers desperately and even the fact that he restrained his hands, he kept his voice  _ low,  _ Din is grateful. He snaps out of his stupor and quickly kneels in front of Grogu.

“Grogu, what do we do with stuff that’s not edible?” he asks. His kid innocently blinks up at him, light still in his eyes. Din is sure Grogu understands him; he just doesn’t care. “Do you remember what happened when you choked on that string?”

That is one of Din’s more terrifying memories, but it’s also the one thing that always stops Grogu from putting stuff into his mouth. He drops the green light, face red and head bowed. He messes with the order of the lights as if to look innocent.

“I’m sorry,” Luke breathes, panic rising in his voice. “If I knew he was gonna do that, I would’ve never—”

“You couldn’t have known,” Din says, putting a gentle hand on Luke’s shoulder. Luke looks like he feels seconds away from being fired, so Din offers him a reassuring smile. “Grogu puts everything in his mouth, it’s not just you.” His throat knots for a second and he has to stop. “You know, you’re the first babysitter he came to greet.”

“Oh?” Luke sounds hopeful, and Din offers him a tight smile. “That’s… That’s good. I mean, I would’ve been fine either way, but that’s good.” He offers Grogu a smile, which the kid promptly ignores, instead staring at the multiple lights that are resting in his lap now.

Din stands up and dusts himself off. “I’ll…” He hesitates, looking at Grogu. The kid seems content enough. “I’ll be around. Feel free to text me if you need me.”

Luke nods absentmindedly, his eyes still on Grogu. Din stays for one more second before leaving, heart thrumming in his chest.

He keeps his ears open for Grogu’s cries, but all he hears is a delighted chuckle.

* * *

The house is…eerily quiet.

And when Din says quiet, he means he hasn’t heard even a hint of a scream or a cry, from either Luke or Grogu. Drumming his fingers on his desk, he looks at the clock. It’s almost 5 p.m., meaning Luke and Grogu have been hanging out for close to six hours now, and still there’s not a peep from either of them.

It’s…unnerving, to say the least. It’s the first time he left his kid alone with a babysitter for so long, and he half expected shit to hit the fan about four hours ago. Maybe even earlier. Even if he was so sure in his gut that Luke was different than all the other babysitters—and Grogu seemed to actually  _ like  _ him—his mind supplied the fact that no babysitter lasted that long without hurting Grogu in some way.

At least, not without Din around.

He tries to focus on the screen in front of him, trying to get as much work done as he can, but it’s almost impossible. The words, locations, names blur as his mind focuses on one thing: he needs to know how Grogu is doing. With a sigh, he quickly prints the document, deletes the file on his computer, and goes downstairs. Noises are definitely coming from Luke’s room and, for a brief moment, Din’s heart jumps into his throat. Maybe Grogu is upset and Din just hadn’t heard it. Maybe he was just too focused on work. He almost stumbles down the stairs in his rush, only to slow down when he realizes the noises aren’t  _ cries.  _ Quite the opposite: they’re  _ giggles.  _ Grogu is giggling, his feet pitter-pattering on the ground, and Din sees him pass by the door with multiple lightsabers in his hands.

Din is pretty much frozen in the hallway as he watches the scene in front of him. Both Luke and Grogu are covered in glitter and wrapping paper, Luke’s usually blonde hair shining in all the colors of the rainbow under the evening sun. There’s a singular, green lightsaber sitting in front of Luke—it seems like Grogu stole all the rest, not that Luke seems to mind. Grogu, who’s now settled down in front of the dresser, is showing the lightsabers to a plush animal, humming something every now and then.

Luke notices Din’s presence after a while and a content smile spreads on his face. “I’m sorry about all the glitter,” he murmurs, even though he doesn’t look apologetic at all. “It’s not the sticky kind, so cleaning up should be easy.”

“It’s…fine.” That’s all Din’s mind can come up with. His eyes are on his son, watching him talk to the plush, in his own way. He doesn’t seem to realize that Din is there at all, and Din doesn’t want to bother him. Not when Grogu seems genuinely… _ happy. _

“Are you okay?” Luke’s voice takes Din out of his thoughts and he realizes his cheeks are wet. “I swear the glitter will come off. I can even clean it up. I just thought Grogu would enjoy it—”

“Luke,” Din stops him, letting tears flow freely instead of wiping them away. “I don’t care about the glitter.” He turns to Luke, who’s sitting on the floor with wide eyes and mouth slightly agape.

“Oh,” is all Luke says, and Din can’t help the chuckle that escapes his lips. It seems to alert Grogu to his presence because the kid turns to him, delight written all over his face. He coos loudly and raises his lightsabers, as if he’s trying to say,  _ look what we did, papa!  _ Din offers his kid a gentle smile and walks over to him, ruffling his hair.

“You need to teach me how to make that.” Grogu, excited, nods before he turns to the plush animal again. Din squeezes his son’s shoulder and turns back to Luke. The man has a grin on his face as he leans back on his arms.

“You have glitter on your sleeve,” he points out, and Din just rolls his eyes. It’s as if Luke isn’t absolutely covered in glitter.

“Look who’s talking.” 


	5. eyes like sinking ships, on waters so inviting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have to teach in five minutes and this is what i'm working on lmao. i definitely have my life together.
> 
> as always, thank you to my beta, liz-ee. she's amazing!
> 
> important note: i changed the rating to Mature just to give myself more leeway for future chapters. i will give warnings in every chapter appropriately, but i just wanted to mention that.
> 
> p.s. title is from Gold Rush by Taylor Swift

The bed is  _ unnervingly comfortable.  _ It’s the exact right mix of soft and sturdy, so Luke doesn’t feel like he’s being sucked into it, but it fits his body shape perfectly. The blankets are cloudy and weightless; the pillow is just thick enough to support Luke’s neck without being painful.

It’s probably the first time Luke wakes up truly rested in months. Compared to Leia’s couch—bless her heart for offering it, though—the bed is  _ heavenly _ , and it also helps that the room has  _ blackout curtains _ and the damn bed has a  _ built-in heater. _

He crawls out of the bed at turtle speed, unwilling to leave the comfort and warmth. It’s only six a.m., but Luke has never been a late sleeper. He makes his way to the bathroom to freshen up and thinks about whether it would be pushing it if he popped into the gym. He’s itching for a nice, private workout after being cramped up in Leia’s living room. Din did say he’s welcome to use it, and there’s apparently even a  _ swimming pool  _ that really does sound like heaven right now…

Tapping his fingers absentmindedly on the rim of the sink, he thinks. It’s early enough that Din is probably not awake, and he can take at least a few laps in the swimming pool before the man wakes up. He wasn’t lying about the swimming trunks—while he hasn’t been to the ocean in a while, after growing up in a pretty much only-desert state, he loves being able to just dip his toes into cold waves and let the water carry him away. He eyes his suitcase, the thought of jumping into the pool too tempting.

_ Fuck it,  _ he thinks after a while. Din seems like a nice enough person, despite the wall of weapons and his secrecy about his work. Luke doubts he’ll just flip out if Luke uses his time in the morning to get his daily workout in. It’s better than doing it in the middle of the day, when he should be taking care of Grogu. So instead of taking a shower, Luke grabs his swimming stuff from his suitcase and a towel—how is the  _ towel  _ so damn soft? It feels illegal—from the bathroom, heading downstairs to the pool. He hasn’t seen the gym or the pool yet, and excitement is humming in his veins at the thought of having the  _ entire place  _ to himself. Seeing how large the other two floors are, he can imagine just how big the basement would be.

He comes to a screeching halt when he steps into the gym and looks to his left. Because he isn’t alone at all, like he predicted—hoped,  _ prayed— _ he would be. Another figure is there, in the pool—it really does look Olympic sized—swimming from one side to the other with such a beautiful form that Luke feels lightheaded. A part of him wants to run away, but another part is drawn to the pool, to the man inside the pool, and he finds himself stepping outside.

Din  _ knows  _ how to swim. It’s clear to see from his sheer  _ speed.  _ But that’s not what catches Luke’s eyes the most. He watches Din’s arms move in and out of the water, the muscles straining to push him forward, and his back moving in tandem, glinting brightly under the morning sun. Luke knew Din was muscular under his slightly baggy outfits, but to actually see it all bare… He has to drape his towel in front of his crotch as heat rises to his cheeks.

He moves to leave, hoping Din didn’t notice him at all, but then he hears Din’s voice. “You can join me, you know.” Luke shuts his eyes briefly, cursing his luck—even though a part of him is  _ delighted  _ at the idea of joining Din—before turning back to the pool. He catches Din running a hand through his hair, his wet curls sticking up in every direction, and Din offers him a lopsided grin. “You live here just as much as I do,” he continues, except Luke can’t really hear the words because his eyes are stuck on Din’s arms crossed on the edge of the pool, his muscles gleaming with droplets of water, and Luke suddenly feels the urge to run his fingers up those muscles, through the dips and crevices, and his mouth waters and he’s pretty sure his pupils are blown wide even under the sun and his cheeks are flaming—

“Luke?”

“What? I’m here.” Luke snaps out of his stupor and finally manages to look up at Din’s eyes. A soft chuckle leaves the man’s lips, and Luke’s stomach does a little cartwheel inside him.

“I can see that,” Din says, tilting his head to the side. “Are you planning on joining me, or are you just going to stand there watching me all morning?”

“I wasn’t watching you.” Luke’s voice is definitely too thin and Din seems to notice that as well. He’s full on grinning now, probably laughing at Luke’s antics on the inside, and a blush rises up to Luke’s ears. “I’ll join you,” he says, just to have something to say, and quickly discards his towel on one of the lounge chairs. He’s pretty sure Din’s eyes are following him as he turns to the pool, and he doesn’t even care that it might be cold before he jumps in. He even  _ welcomes  _ the cold, hoping it can take some of the heat away from the moment. He swims underwater until his lungs start to burn, until he’s sure he won’t combust the moment he looks at Din, and then he resurfaces. His hair clings to his forehead, briefly obscuring his vision, but when he moves them away he sees Din’s eyes on him.

It must be his eyes tricking him, but Din’s cheeks look slightly flushed from a distance, and his eyes look just a shade darker than usual. Luke fights the sudden urge to hide his face, just in case he’s still red all over. Then Din’s eyes meet his own and the moment—that Luke probably imagined—is broken.

“I feel like I have competition,” Din says finally, his grin returning to his face. Luke snorts and hangs onto the side of the pool next to Din, making sure to put enough space between them to retain sanity.

“That doubtful of your abilities?” he teases. If Luke has to be honest, he only really learned how to swim in the last few years and he doubts he can even make it to the other side by the time Din finishes a lap, but Din’s eyes are shining with excitement and Luke’s insides twist pleasantly. He stretches away from the side of the pool, holding on with just the pads of his fingertips, and Luke gets distracted all over again.

“Is that a challenge?”

_ What? Yes. No?  _ Luke’s eyes snap up to Din’s and all that comes out of his mouth is a desperate noise. Din laughs. 

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

Then he’s off swimming again, shooting through the water like a bullet. Luke jumps at the sudden movement. “Hey, that’s not fair!” he yells after Din, scrambling to follow the man with his less than perfect form.

He doesn’t think Din heard him at all, but he also completely misses the other man momentarily falter in the water, losing his concentration for just the barest second.

* * *

Din puts on his helmet before moving down the dark hallway. Even under the multiple layers of undergarment and the heavy armor, he shivers, the cold of the cave seeping into his bones. He wishes briefly for a coat, but the Armorer is clear in her instructors—a Mandalorian is only allowed to visit her in full armor, including the helmet.

Nobody knows who the Armorer is under her helmet. She’s just as likely to be any one of the residents of the Mandalorian lands, hiding in plain sight as a complete stranger. No one, not even Din, is allowed to know her name or see her face.

He doesn’t need to, his creed dictates. As long as he’s a sworn Mandalorian, he does whatever the Armorer says, no questions asked.

Stopping in front of her room, he takes a deep breath and knocks on the door. The Armorer’s modulated voice rings through the cave walls, “Enter.” He pushes the door open, keeping his gaze firmly locked on the floor, and kneels down in front of the Armorer’s seat.

It’s after a few minutes that the Armorer appears in the room, decked in her own set of armor, her movement slow and calculated. She stops across from Din and takes her seat.

“Raise your head, Mand’alor.” Din lifts his head, looking at her through his visor. The black tint baths everything in shadows, obscuring the details of the Armorer’s figure. Even if Din could see her clearly, though, he would’ve looked away. “Report.”

“Two people swore the creed this past week.”

“Where will they be serving?”

“Florida. I’m preparing a private flight. It will leave in one week.”

“Good. What about the foundlings? Are they improving?”

“Yes. The oldest group is close to completing their weapons training. We will send them to different locations around the country to work with other Mandalorians.”

“And I assume everything is going smoothly here?”

“Yes. The harvest looks good—with our storage from the previous years, we should have enough food to last us for at least three, in the case of a disaster. There have been several applications submitted for houses on the land; I will go through them as soon as possible.” The Armorer nods, her posture pleased even though it’s impossible to tell what she’s actually feeling. She rises to her feet, moving to the other side of the room.

“Relax, Mand’alor,” she calls, opening a hatch on the wall. Din’s hands curl on his knees, hesitant for a second, but then he lets his shoulders fall. “How is your foundling doing?”

It’s not the first time the Armorer asked about Grogu, but it always takes Din by surprise. He was raised to think the Armorer to be this detached, all-knowing figure. Never in his wildest dreams had he expected her to care about his personal life, let alone his son.

“He’s doing as well as ever. I’m trying to get him to be more social.”

“Not pushing him too hard, I hope.” The Armorer turns to him, and there is a bite to her voice. Having never met Grogu, she seems like she cares about him anyway. “I heard that you hired a new babysitter.”

Din has no idea where she heard that from, but he nods. “He’s back at the house now. He will take care of Grogu in my absence.”

“And you are sure he won’t hurt him?” Din’s mind flashes back to all the other babysitters. He wants to say yes, but no sound escapes his lips. The Armorer kneels in front of Din. “If it is necessary, Din Djarin, you stay with your foundling.”

“I have a job to do.”

“Then you take him with you.” Din’s eyes snap up, mouth slightly open. He thinks of bringing Grogu on his missions and a shiver runs down his spine. He shakes his head.

“That’s impossible.”

“Then you quit.” Din clenches his fists, furiously blinking back his tears. He can’t cry. He  _ won’t  _ cry in front of her. “Foundlings come first, Mand’alor,” the Armorer continues. Din knows that, he’s been taught that, but quitting his job with the police is equivalent to giving up his position as Mand’alor, and he cannot afford that. It’s only thanks to his position that he has the house he has. It’s only thanks to his job that he’s able to keep Grogu safe and isolated. He doesn’t have a choice.

“I will think about what you’ve said,” he promises anyway. The Armorer seems satisfied, for now. She rises to her feet and drops a file in front of Din.

“Your new bounty. He needs to be captured within a week.”

“I understand.” Din hopes it’s not obvious that his hands are shaking. He watches as the Armorer steps back, turning off the lights in the cave and leaving it in darkness. It’s Din’s cue to leave.

He shivers all the way up to the surface level.

* * *

Luke never thought a swimming session could be  _ steamy _ —at least, not when all you did was actually swimming. The act literally includes being surrounded by cold water, flapping your arms so you somewhat float and move. Nothing about it should be steamy.

And yet, he takes a long, cold shower after swimming with Din, until he’s sure all the heat has seeped out of his body and he won’t combust unexpectedly when he comes face to face with Din again. Especially when there isn’t a towel to drape in front of himself.

He stops that train of thought immediately as he hops out of the shower, quickly dressing up in casual clothes before peeking out of his room. He expects to find Din in the living room, but instead, there’s a note carefully taped onto his door.

_ Went to work. Grogu usually wakes up by nine. Money for takeout is on the kitchen counter. -Din _

Luke doesn’t know why, but he feels slightly disappointed. He sighs and makes his way to the kitchen, hoping to get some breakfast before the kid wakes up. Except before he can even go downstairs, he comes to a stop. 

Grogu, apparently, doesn’t  _ always  _ wake up by nine. He’s in the hallway, sitting in front of his dad’s door, a silver ball clutched in his hands. His hair is still shimmering slightly with glitter, and the lightsabers are lying by his crossed legs.

Luke quietly makes his way to the kid. Grogu doesn’t indicate that he heard him at all, though Luke has a suspicion that he’s aware of Luke’s presence. Luke sits down, cross-legged, next to the kid.

“You miss your dad?” he asks, eyes taking in Grogu’s dejected posture. It’s clear just how much the kid adores his father—just how much he depends on him. Grogu doesn’t even look as he nods. “Your father will come back, Grogu. He just went to work, that’s all.”

Grogu looks down at his ball, his shoulders curling inwards. Luke thinks Grogu knows all that, he’s just…sad that Din has to leave. And that, Luke can relate to. He offers Grogu a small smile.

“You know, I miss him too.” This time, surprise splashes on Grogu’s face, and the kid tilts his head towards Luke. He isn’t quite looking at him, but Luke doesn’t care. His smile widens. “We were swimming together in the morning and I thought, wouldn’t it be nice if he was around all the time? And then I wouldn’t have to miss him at all. But he goes to work so he can provide for us, make sure we’re happy and comfortable.”

Grogu drops his head to look at the silver ball again, and then back at the door, something akin to understanding shining in his eyes. Luke tucks his feet under his legs and leans forward. “How about we make sure he’s happy as well? Can you tell me your father’s favorite food?”

The kid perks up, eyes briefly turning to look. Then he’s up on his feet, rushing to the stairs. Luke follows Grogu, a grin on his lips.


	6. it's like your eyes are liquor, it's like your body is gold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so. i had to change the rating again. to explicit. because let me tell you, this chapter got _steamy_ ; and i was not prepared for it. i wasn't prepared for what my brain would come up with when i said i'm giving myself some leeway with the mature rating. so. here we are. hope you like this!
> 
> also, thank you to my beta liz-ee on Tumblr. she's been on this rollercoaster of changing ratings with me and she's been amazing about it, so kudos to her. 
> 
> p.s. title is from End Game by Taylor Swift

When Luke offered to cook Din’s favorite dish with Grogu, he momentarily forgot the little fact that he’s absolutely  _ shit  _ at cooking. Even when he was renting a place for himself, he got takeout ninety percent of the week, frozen food making up the other ten percent. He’d hoped, when Grogu seemingly knew his father’s favorite food, that it would be something easy to make.

Oh, no. Oh _ no.  _ Because of course Din likes some obscure food that looks nothing like Luke has ever seen. Grogu handed him a picture so Luke could see what it looks like—a picture of Din and Grogu dining in front of a window and  _ no,  _ Luke absolutely isn’t melting inside just because of a little  _ smile  _ on Din’s face. The food, which should be the important part of the photo, looks like some type of soup with vegetables—are those potatoes? They probably are. And the orange things are carrots, right?—and a meat that looks sort of like beef, but could be anything, really. Luke takes a short glance at the photo and knows for a fact that there is no way he can replicate that food.

Except he looks at Grogu—who, for the first time, kept eye contact with him for more than five seconds—and he can’t say no. He sighs and tucks the photo in his pocket, offering the kid a weak smile. “Let’s get to it, then.”

A few hours later, Luke is covered in flour and potato peels, his t-shirt splattered with all kinds of sauces, and what is inside the pot resembles anything but the picture. It smells  _ weird _ , too, and the meat looks like little lumps of coal instead of the juicy brown from Grogu’s picture. Luke is sure his hair is a mess of knots and tangles and he looks like he came out of a war with a fridge, and he has  _ nothing  _ to show for it.

Well, nothing except Grogu’s giggles. The kid, at least, seems to have found Luke’s struggles amusing. Luke sighs and turns off the stove, pretty much collapsing on the floor right next to Grogu. “I probably should’ve told you that I’m not a good cook,” he grumbles, running his hand through his hair. “I guess we can’t make your father’s favorite food, huh?” He turns to the kid, who seems to be holding a large booklet in his hands. Grogu pushes the booklet to Luke and opens a random page, pointing at the corner.

It takes Luke a few seconds to realize that it’s a menu, and another few seconds to identify the soup—and it is apparently a soup—from Grogu’s picture. His brows climb up his forehead and he turns to the kid. “So you watched me struggle with the food just for  _ fun _ ?”

Grogu’s lips twitch into a smile as he tugs on the menu again, placing a cellphone on top of it. Luke wants to stay mad, except all his anger dissipates at the hopeful expression on Grogu’s face and he sighs. “I guess takeout it is, then.”

* * *

Greef doesn’t even flinch when Din brings the unconscious bounty to the station, dropping him by the lieutenant’s table. He briefly looks up from his computer, acknowledges Din with a nod, and then his eyes find the criminal.

“Do I even want to know?”

“He didn’t want to be handcuffed,” Din explains with a shrug. “So I didn’t.”

“Of course. And his file—” He stops when Din drops the file in front of him. He opens the front page and his face immediately sours. He glances up at Din, sympathy shining in his gaze. “I’ll just say he fell down the stairs.”

Greef puts the file aside and calls for two officers to take the unconscious man. “Are there any updates?” Din asks when the officers are out of earshot, seating himself down across from Greef’s desk. Greef looks tired; he crosses his arms over the table and rubs his eyes.

“Not really. He’s fighting the charges, and Goddamn his lawyers are ruthless.” Din clenches his teeth. “We’re trying to find witnesses right now, but his family insists that he’s an  _ upstanding citizen _ .”

“I caught him in the act, Greef.”

“Yeah, and he says he wasn’t doing anything. Without any footage, it’s a ‘he said, she said’ situation.”

“He had his  _ dick  _ out in front of…” He has to stop when his voice cracks. Even through his helmet, through the modulator, the shakiness is audible. “What part of that is ‘he said, she said’?” Desperation shines in Greef’s gaze.

“It’s not,” he says softly. “I believe you, Mando, you know that. But you brought him here half-beaten to death. Unless we have another witness testify against him and corroborate your story, he can claim that your story is unreliable, that you have a grudge against him.” Din clenches his teeth and looks away, trying to pull himself together. Barging into the man’s home and beating him to  _ actual death  _ this time won’t help anyone. “But I’m trying to figure it out,” Greef continues almost immediately, leaning forward on the table. “He might be smart, but he’s still a man. And his twisted needs will have left a trail.”

“Thank you.” Din takes a deep breath to calm his anger. “Let me know if I can do anything.”

“Just stay out of it for now. That’s all I’m asking.” As much as Din doesn’t like the sound of that, he knows it’s for the best. He nods curtly and stands up.

“I should get back to Grogu,” he explains. Greef nods immediately.

“He’s with Cara?”

“No. I, uh… I hired a new babysitter.” Greef’s face falls immediately. He turns to his computer, quickly typing away. Greef is…very familiar with the struggles Din has had with Grogu’s babysitters.

“I’ll sign you off. Go take care of your kid.”

Din takes off, half throwing his helmet to the passenger seat the moment he enters the car, and he breaks probably twenty laws speeding through the streets. Ever since he had to leave the house before Grogu even woke up, before he had a chance to warn Luke, anxiety has been knotting his stomach, and he half expects to find the house in disarray, Grogu crying somewhere in the corner, and Luke bitching about how difficult of a kid Grogu is.

He parks the car, keeping his ears open for any cries or screams, except the house is…quiet. He steps into the living room and his eyes fall on the two figures sitting in the middle on the rug, legs crossed…meditating? Luke is humming quiet words that Din can’t catch and Grogu seems to be listening, eyes closed even though his fingers are absentmindedly playing with his silver ball. For the first time with Grogu, Din feels like  _ he’s  _ the one interrupting a moment.

He stands there, frozen, watching the scene unfold in front of him. Watching his son, whose hair is ruffled and whose cheeks are slightly red, but who looks as happy and unharmed as the morning when Din pressed a kiss to his forehead in his sleep. Luke is quite the opposite, with his t-shirt painted with an array of food ingredients and his hair almost white from flour, but even he looks content, a smile on his face, without a care in the world. Luke and Grogu are  _ happy,  _ and Din doesn’t remember a time he came back home to find Grogu happy with a babysitter.

“Your father’s here,” Luke announces, dragging Din out of his thoughts. Din doesn’t know when exactly Luke realized that, considering his eyes are still shut, but Grogu immediately opens his eyes and squeals. The kid is at Din’s feet in a second, asking to be picked up. Din obliges.

“How did I know he’d forget about me the moment you got here?” Luke sighs teasingly, leaning back on his arms. Din tucks Grogu’s head into the crook of his shoulder, letting out the tension he didn’t know he was holding onto. Grogu is fine. Grogu is  _ happy.  _ Din… He didn’t mess up. Not this time, at least.

“He didn’t give you trouble?” Din asks, eyes scanning Luke’s clothes. Luke’s cheeks turn red as he tries to cover up the mess he’s in, even though it looks like he’d need an extensive shower to properly do that.

“Not at all. He’s a really good kid.” Luke smiles and Din can tell that he’s being genuine. His heart swells in his chest. Luke isn’t lying to make him feel better, like other babysitters had. Luke doesn’t think Grogu is a difficult child. Luke doesn’t find Grogu to be too much trouble to take care of. Luke even got Grogu to  _ meditate  _ with him, to make lightsabers with him, to hang out with him from day one instead of hiding in his room. Luke is…

Luke is a miracle.

Din returns Luke’s smile as he presses a kiss on his son’s hair. Grogu mumbles happily, reaching up with one hand to play with Din’s stubble. “Thank you, Luke.”

“Uh, for taking care of Grogu? That’s literally my job, isn’t it?” He’s right, in a way. But Din just shakes his head. There’s no way he can explain to Luke without revealing too much—without explaining why it’s so important to him that Grogu is getting the care he deserves.

Instead, he changes the subject. “I didn’t know your job definition included having a food fight.” Luke stills, red blossoming on his cheeks and climbing up to the tips of his ears. His wide, blue eyes stand out, and Din finds that he likes it. “How did you manage to get so dirty, anyway?”

“So, before I tell you, you should know that I’m not the best cook.” 

Din just stares.“I left you money for takeout.”

“Yeah. Well. We did that. Eventually.” Luke clears his throat and runs a hand through his hair, unknowingly spilling flour all over himself again. “I, um… Cooking isn’t in my job description, right?”

Din arches a brow. “How bad is it?” Luke blushes even more, which didn’t seem possible, and Din finds himself grinning. “The food is still in the kitchen, isn’t it?”

Luke’s protests aren’t enough to stop Din from turning on his heels and marching to the kitchen.

* * *

Luke tells himself that the only reason Din’s photo is still in his pocket is that he  _ completely forgot  _ it was there. He would’ve given it back to Grogu, he  _ should’ve, _ except between cleaning up the mess he made in the kitchen with Din, watching a movie with Grogu, and calling Leia to tell her that he’s  _ a hundred percent okay  _ and Din definitely won’t kill him and ditch him into a hole _ ,  _ and he doesn’t mean  _ probably  _ when he says  _ definitely…  _ The photo didn’t cross his mind.

Well, okay. It crossed his mind. Multiple times, actually. He could kind of feel the weight of it in his pocket. And maybe his hand went there every now and then. Every minute. Every thirty  _ seconds? _

Luke sighs. The only reason the photo was with him right now was that he didn’t want to give it away.

In his defense, it’s a very sweet photo. Din looks handsome—because  _ of course he does,  _ look at  _ him— _ but even more than that, he looks…relaxed. There’s no tension in his shoulders, no tightness in his jaw. His arm is thrown lazily around Grogu, his brown eyes are glinting with unbridled happiness, and with his hair sticking up in all directions and his messy scuffle, he looks years younger than his age. Lying down in the bed, Luke swipes over Din’s face with his thumb, wishing he could see more of this Din.

Like their time in the pool. Din was completely relaxed then, arms crossed over the edge of the pool, a bright glint in his eyes and a careless smile on his face. Heat rises on Luke’s cheeks when he thinks back to the morning, how strong Din looked as he swam, how Luke couldn’t keep his eyes away from him, how he wanted Din’s arms around him and holding him tightly, maybe even going lower, slipping under his swim shorts—

Now there’s a whole other kind of heat pooling somewhere else, somewhere  _ way down,  _ and Luke tries to clamp down  _ those _ thoughts. He’s Grogu’s  _ babysitter— _ Din’s  _ employee.  _ The last thing he needs is to think of his boss  _ that way,  _ no matter how handsome Din is, no matter how his heart flutters every time he finds Din’s eyes, no matter how empty the giant king-sized bed feels even though Luke wouldn’t know one thing about sleeping next to someone. He should just put the picture away and try to sleep, except he’s hot all over and he knows it’ll take him hours to sleep in this state, if he doesn’t…let off some steam.

One of Luke’s hands slips under the sheets and he plays with the edge of his sweatpants, thinking. He’s breathing hard, his gaze is hazy, and he wants this—he  _ needs  _ this.  _ It’s not like it’ll be my first time,  _ he tries to persuade himself.  _ Even if it is in my boss’ house. _

_ Even if I can’t seem to get him out of my mind. _

He needs to stop. No, go on. Forget. But he can’t. He lets his eyelids flutter shut as he finally moves his hand under his sweatpants, taking out his cock. Even the slightest touch sends a shiver down his spine and he pretends he isn’t thinking of brown eyes.

He swipes his thumb over the tip, slickening his fingers, and then pumps once, slowly, his back arching against the mattress. He keeps his eyes shut tightly, colors swimming in and out of his vision, a rich brown and flushed red, blue glinting over tanned skin, sunshine shining over the water… His fingers tighten around the base of his cock and suddenly, it isn’t his hand but it’s Din’s, and the man is crawling over him. Luke whimpers as he imagines Din leaning over him, his scruff tickling Luke’s cheek.  _ Come for me,  _ Din murmurs as Luke pumps, his empty hand curled over the mattress, fingers slick and messy around his cock. A shiver runs down Luke’s spine as he thinks of Din tracing the lines of his chest, fingers playing with his nipples, and he’s  _ close _ .

“ _ Din,”  _ he chokes, feeling the ghost of a hand trace his bottom lip.  _ It’s okay,  _ Din whispers into the crook of his neck, his hair tickling Luke’s cheek. “Din, I won’t—I  _ can’t…”  _ Fingers squeeze around the base of his cock and he bites back a moan. He can almost feel Din’s smile.  _ Let go, Luke,  _ Din murmurs in a sultry voice, and Luke imagines him with hooded eyes, one hand tangled in Luke’s hair, the other working him up. Another couple of pumps and Luke comes with a muffled choke, his cum covering his fingers and the sheets. His body is slick with sweat, his t-shirt clinging to his skin. It’s the first time he came so quickly while masturbating, and he doesn’t want to think about the reason.

He’s breathless as his body goes limp onto the mattress, his hand slipping off of his cock. Deep down, the buried, logical part of his brain knows he needs to clean up— _ oh God, he needs to wash his sheets, what will Din think— _ but his knees feel weak and he’s pretty sure he’ll collapse the moment he tries to leave the bed. He also knows he’s by himself in the room, but with his eyes squeezed shut, with his mind foggy with pleasure, it’s easy to imagine Din is still there, settling next to him, calloused fingers tracing his cheek.  _ You were great, Luke,  _ he murmurs and a tired moan escapes Luke’s lips.  _ It’s okay. I’m here. You’re okay. _

Luke lets himself believe those words for the next few minutes, before he needs to get out of the bed to clean up, before reality shatters this amazing dream. His lips curl into a smile and he turns his head to the side of the bed, the brown eyes swimming in front of him again.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, settling on the softest part of the mattress and letting the bed swallow him.


	7. life was a willow and it bent right to your wind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> note: i somehow signed myself up to writing a very self-indulgent 5+1 fic of din and luke adopting force sensitive children, so if the next chapter is delayed, that's why. but. well, keep your eyes open for that, i guess.
> 
> also, thanks to my beta, liz-ee on Tumblr. she's legit the best.
> 
> p.s. title is from Willow by Taylor Swift

It’s 4 a.m. Din should be asleep at 4 a.m., right? When Luke was up early in the morning just the other day, Din was already in the pool, meaning he probably goes to bed early. Probably. It’s hard to tell with him.

But he would  _ most likely  _ be asleep at four in the morning. At least, that’s what Luke tells himself as he gathers his… _ dirty  _ sheets and clothes in his arms and quietly makes his way out of the room. His hair is a mess, his cheeks are flushed, he’s pretty sure he looks like he’s sneaking out after a steamy hookup, and it would all be fine,  _ except he’s walking out of his very much empty room… _ after literally coming all over himself thinking about  _ his boss. _

If there ever was a walk of shame, this is it.

Nibbling on his lower lip, Luke tries to discard the steamy thoughts. Getting hard right now is the exact  _ opposite  _ of what he needs. He’s already resigned to sleeping without sheets on—he can’t very well ruin the  _ mattress  _ too. He moves to the stairs, opting not to use the elevator just in case the damn thing makes a lot of noise, and quietly creeps down. The laundry is on the first floor, right next to the garage, and all he needs to do is to pass through the living room. He doesn’t even dare to turn on the lights, his bare feet quiet on the hardwood floor, and he quickly beelines to the laundry. He flicks the light switch.

And he made it. Releasing the breath he didn’t even realize he was holding, he goes to the washing machine and dumps the sheets on it. Now all he needs to find is the detergent—

“Luke?” Luke’s heart jumps in his chest when he hears the voice and he almost slips, holding onto the washing machine to keep himself upright. “What are you doing here?” He turns around and of course— _ of fucking course, because Luke is the unluckiest person in the world, because he can’t even be left alone in the middle of the fucking night _ —Din is there, looking at him with an arched brow. Luke quickly moves in front of the washing machine, as if he can hide the bundle of sheets, and he really hopes his cheeks don’t look as red as they feel.

“Uh… What are  _ you  _ doing here?” Luke asks, unable to come up with anything else. Is his voice too thin? It’s definitely too thin. He suddenly feels the urge to cover his crotch even though  _ that  _ would definitely get Din’s attention, and not in a good way. Din  _ can’t know  _ what happened.

“I was in the living room and saw you…” Din’s voice trails off and his eyes move to the washing machine. Luke mentally curses. “You’re washing your sheets?”

“I’m washing—what?” Luke tries to move as subtly as possible and gather the sheets behind his back. His laugh feels too fake. “I’m not washing anything. I was just trying to find the laundry. That’s it. Those are not my sheets. How did they get in here anyway?”

“Luke, every room in this house has different sheets.”  _ Oh.  _ Right. Because why wouldn’t that be a thing? Din is apparently super rich, so of course he’d want specialized sheets for  _ every single room.  _ “I washed them before you moved in, you know. If you’re worried about that—”

“I’m not!” Luke gathers the sheets haphazardly in his arms again. He knows he has to wash them but  _ by God  _ he’d rather sleep in them until Din is out at work if that means he doesn’t have to explain what happened. “I was just being careful. That’s it. They’re not dirty at all. I’ll just take them—” Luke has to stop with a squeal when something small slips out of his grip and falls to the floor. He scrambles to take a hold of the black cloth, but in his attempt, not only do  _ all of the sheets  _ fall onto the floor, but he kicks the pants even farther away from himself,  _ right in front of Din.  _ And there’s no hiding the  _ stain  _ on the crotch.

Luke’s cheeks are so warm that he’s surprised he doesn’t combust right then and there. He looks up at Din to find him staring at the pants, and Din’s eyes widen in recognition. “Oh,” he whispers, and Luke wonders whether or not he can jump into the washing machine and start the damn thing before Din stops him. He scrambles to his feet, half of the sheets in his hands.

“I didn’t bring anyone!” he blurts out, as if that’s  _ necessary  _ to point out, as if him sneaking a boy into his boss’ house is somehow worse than jerking himself off. Din looks up and his cheeks are slightly tinted as well and there it is, there’s that look from the pool again. Din’s eyes are dark as he eyes the sheets and suddenly, Luke is  _ very, very glad  _ that the trailing ends hide his crotch.

“I didn’t think you did,” Din whispers and his voice is so  _ quiet  _ that it almost sounds sultry. A shiver runs down Luke’s spine and  _ oh no.  _ He’s hard all over again.

He opens his mouth to apologize—because  _ really _ , what he did should probably get him fired—but then Din shakes his head. “It’s okay, Luke. I don’t care about what you do in your personal space.” Luke stops in his tracks, mouth slightly open in shock. Din just smiles, his eyes returning to that warm brown color. “Your job is to take care of Grogu when I’m not around. I was serious—this house is yours as much as mine. Outside of that, you’re allowed to do whatever…” Din’s eyes briefly dip downwards, and Luke’s cheeks are flaming all over again. “Whatever makes you happy.” He kneels down to grab Luke’s pants and the rest of the sheets, putting them back on top of the washing machine. Then he’s gone and Luke is left alone, eyes wide, just staring after  _ his boss.  _ He should be fired…except he’s not.

He should’ve been fired yesterday, even, when he made a mess of the kitchen. Or when he straight up asked Din just how rich he was the first day. Din is giving him too much leeway, for a fresh employee, and Luke can’t help wondering  _ why _ .

What is it that Luke did that excuses every single slip up, no matter how bad?

* * *

_ The closet is small and dark. Din barely fits in it, even with his thin body and bony legs, and his muscles are already beginning to cramp. He wants to shift, to find a more comfortable position, but he doesn’t even dare breathe. _

_ At least his parents stopped screaming. At least his tears are dry on his cheeks. He wants to go looking for them, to make sure they’re okay, but… _

_ His parents told him to hide. So he stays. Besides, they would come for him if he was safe. They would take him out. He just needs to wait, and then everything will be okay. They’ll be safe again. _

_ His arms tighten around his legs and he closes his eyes. He starts to count in his head, telling himself that his parents will be here before he hits 100. _

_ He’s at 278 when he hears footsteps around the house. He presses his lips together tightly, eyes flickering to the slit between the closet doors. It’s impossible to see anything, but even with the lack of noise, he knows it’s not his parents. His parents would’ve called for him. His parents— _

_ The door of the closet is yanked open, and he finds himself staring at a dark helmet. Weapons are strapped on the man’s belt and he’s holding a gun with gloved hands. Blood covers the armor on his chest, and Din wonders briefly whether it’s his parents’ blood. _

_ He feels completely numb as he looks up at the helmet. His fingers around his knees loosen and he half expects the man to shoot him right there. He doesn’t think he’d even fight back. _

_ Except the man clasps his gun back in its holster and kneels in front of him. “Hey, kid,” he says, voice impossibly soft. “I’m not going to hurt you. It’s okay.” _

_ Din looks at the helmet’s visor, but it’s impossible to read the man without looking at his face. He turns to the man’s extended hand. “Who are you?” he asks, his voice raspy. He wets his dry lips and turns to the visor again. The man tilts his head to the side, and Din can almost imagine him smiling. _

_ “I’m a Mandalorian. I’m here to take you someplace safe. You’re gonna be okay, kid.” The man’s hand opens again, and weirdly, Din feels safe in his presence. “Come with me.” He doesn’t have to repeat himself; Din takes his hand, letting him haul Din up to his chest. _

_ Din briefly sees his parents’ bodies sprawled on the floor before he buries his face into the man’s shoulder. _

* * *

Cara Dune is the first of Din’s friends that Luke meets.

It’s Wednesday, and Luke gets his first day off from work, despite telling Din that he’s completely fine with taking care of Grogu whenever he’s needed. Din just gives him a blank look, tells him that he can’t very well be expected to work around the clock every single day—even though that’s  _ not  _ what Luke is doing by a long shot—and pretty much orders Luke to leave the house and enjoy himself. He even tucks his car keys into Luke’s hand and shushes Luke’s protests with a glare. Even when Luke tells him that he could wrap the car around a tree.

Din just  _ shrugs  _ at the idea of his multi-million car being wrapped around a tree. “I have a good mechanic,” is his only response, and Luke just gapes.

Then Din tells him that Cara Dune will come in about an hour to take care of Grogu, and leaves. Luke doesn’t even have time to mention that he’s  _ completely fine  _ taking care of Grogu as long as he’s needed.

It’s not like he’s not being paid for it. He’s getting a pretty generous salary in the first place. And he… He likes taking care of Grogu. In the last few days, he and Din built kind of a routine at the house. They both wake up early for a joint swimming or workout session, have breakfast—that Din cooks because Luke will probably burn the kitchen down if he touches the stove again—and then Din leaves for work. Luke takes care of Grogu until he’s back, which can be as early as three p.m. or as late as never, when he has an overnight job. If he’s back early, they have dinner together, then Luke retreats to his room to give the father and son some alone time. If not, Luke tucks Grogu in, locks the house, and goes to sleep himself.

He’s proud to say he hasn’t ruined another bundle of sheets.  _ Yet. _

The routine sounds boring, but the simplicity of it is refreshing. The last few months crashing on his sister’s couch were so hectic that Luke enjoys knowing exactly what he needs to do when he wakes up. It also helps that Grogu is a delight to take care of and Din is pretty good company when he wants to be.

Still, it’s decided that Cara Dune is coming over, and all Din told him about her is that she’s much harder to impress than Din. It’s easy to say Luke is a ball of anxiety as he waits for the doorbell to ring.

He’s sitting next to Grogu, who’s watching some animated TV show with spaceships and planets and some action. The lightsabers are in Grogu’s hands and he plays with them every now and then, even as his eyes are focused on the TV. Luke tries not to move so he won’t bother the kid, but he starts tapping his fingers on his knee and nibbling on his lower lip sooner rather than later.

Grogu places a hand on top of Luke’s knee and quietly drops the green lightsaber—the kid knows it’s Luke’s favorite—onto Luke’s lap. Luke stares at it for a few seconds, some of his anxiety melting away.

“Thanks, Grogu,” he murmurs, glancing at the kid who’s still staring at the TV. Still, Luke has a feeling Grogu is paying attention to him as well. “How do you feel about Cara?”

Grogu’s ears perk up and he tilts his head to the side. Taking the pink lightsaber, he draws what looks like a heart. “You love her?” Instead of nodding, Grogu draws another heart on his leg. Luke sighs.

“I guess there’s no reason to be worried, right? I mean, what’s she gonna do, get me fired?” Grogu stays silent, but Luke can tell the kid is amused. “I’m Din’s employee, right? She can’t decide.”

Grogu shrugs. It seems like Grogu disagrees—if Luke fails this test, it’s very likely that he’ll be put in front of the door with all his belongings. He sighs, biting down on his lower lip again. “So I just make a good impression, right? What does Cara like? I mean, outside of anything I would need to cook. We know how that’ll end.”

Grogu lifts his head and, with a finger, he points at the TV screen. At first, Luke is confused. The only thing going on there is a very PG battle between the good guys and the bad guys, but Grogu looks pretty confident in himself. Luke arches a brow. “Cara likes…fighting?” Luke takes Grogu’s silence as a yes.  _ Great. _

Before Luke can wrap his mind around the fact that Din fucking Djarin has a wall of weapons and helmets,  _ and _ his best friend apparently is fond of fighting, there’s a knock on the door. Luke pretty much scrambles up from the couch to answer the door, shooting Grogu a quick glare when he hears a giggle. Just because he’s  _ jittery  _ doesn’t mean the little womp rat gets to make fun of him.

Cara Dune isn’t a woman someone would call pretty, but she does have a striking presence. She’s wearing a tattered t-shirt and leather jacket, complete with tight jeans, and her hair is haphazardly pulled up, several strands falling over her shoulders. Luke doesn’t miss the very real looking gun tucked into her belt and he gulps.

“You must be Luke Skywalker,” is how she greets him as she steps inside, boots quiet against the hardwood floor. Luke momentarily wonders  _ what the fuck kind of company  _ Din is keeping, but his mind quickly blanks when Cara sets her fiery gaze on him. “You look young.”

Heat flares on Luke’s cheeks and he suddenly feels defensive. “I’m twenty-eight,” he points out and Cara looks doubtful, eyeing his messy blonde strands that are definitely overdue for a haircut, bright blue eyes, and jittery hands. Luke immediately presses his hands to his stomach to stop them from shaking, and a smile spreads on Cara’s face.

“Din trusts you.” Luke almost chokes on his own breath, which earns a quiet chuckle from Cara. “He doesn’t trust a lot of people. Especially babysitters. But he trusts you.” She steps into his personal space and Luke is pretty sure he sees her hand hover over her gun.  _ Okay, then.  _ “If I were you,  _ Skywalker,  _ I wouldn’t mistreat that trust.”

“I won’t,” Luke blurts out, using every bit of his courage to stand his ground. “Grogu is great. I’ll… Uh, I’ll do anything to make sure he’s okay.”

Cara blinks, taken aback. She moves slightly away from Luke— _ thank freaking God  _ because she has a suffocating presence—and arches a brow. “You really don’t know, do you?” she asks, head tilted to the side. Luke just gapes.

“Know what?” he asks, except all Cara does is stare a bit more, and then she shakes her head with a laugh. “Is there something I should know?” Luke thinks he sounds just a bit frantic, but he’s living in a house with a secretive third floor in a land big enough to make him think it was bought by blood money, and Din’s best friend just casually carries a gun. At this point, Luke is kind of tired of surprises.

“Nothing. Weren’t you supposed to be going out?” Cara turns to the living room, and all Luke can do is follow her.

“Uh. I mean, Din wants me to, but really, I can take care of Grogu—” Luke stops in his tracks with Cara’s glare. “I mean, yes. I’m going out. Right now, in fact.”

“Good.” Cara grins and shoos him away. Luke turns on his heels, fingers wrapped around the car keys in the pocket of his jacket. At the last second, he turns to Cara.

“Do you, by chance, know of any toy stores nearby?”


	8. nothing good starts in a getaway car

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so. this chapter is above 5000 words. and it's like. four pages of smut on word. just. fyi. if you're not into explicit sexual content, you can skip the third scene (after the second cutoff). 
> 
> but anyway, i hope you enjoy it!
> 
> thank you to my beta liz-ee on Tumblr. she's a champ.
> 
> p.s. title is from Getaway Car by Taylor Swift.

Leia is  _ suspicious _ .

And for someone who can so easily slip into her politician persona where it’s impossible to tell what she’s thinking, the fact that she’s not even trying to hide it knots Luke’s stomach.

“You live in a  _ mansion _ ,” Leia deadpans, fingers drumming against the side of her Starbucks cup—at the very Starbucks, in fact, that Luke first saw the job posting. “Like an honest to god mansion. Like Batman, Iron Man level of mansion.”

“More like Iron Man,” Luke murmurs, and Leia’s brows shoot up to her hairline. “Because, uh, it’s on a cliff. By the ocean. And I’m pretty sure it doesn’t have an underground cave full of gadgets and gizmos.”

“ _ Pretty  _ sure?” Luke thinks of the weapons and helmets, thinks of Cara Dune and her guns, thinks of the off-limits third floor. He doesn’t correct himself. “Luke,  _ what exactly  _ does this job entail?”

Now  _ that  _ Luke can answer. His shoulders relax slightly when he thinks of Grogu, the quiet little bastard who somehow wormed his way into Luke’s heart in the one week he spent with him. Despite being non-verbal, intelligence oozes out of the kid, and slowly Luke is learning to interpret Grogu’s body language. If Luke is paying enough attention, he can pretty much keep a conversation going with Grogu, and it doesn’t feel one-sided even though he’s the only one talking.

“Babysitting, Leia. I told you.”

“And nothing else? He’s not having you do anything else with him?”

“Uh, no?” Luke frowns. “I mean, there was that one time I tried to cook, but  _ that  _ turned out to be a disaster, so he just leaves money for takeout now. Sometimes he doesn’t come home from work because he’s doing overnight stuff and I tuck Grogu in, but that’s mainly it. He has the cleaning people come and take care of the house every few days anyway.” Luke wraps his fingers around the warm coffee cup and shrugs. “He even gives me off days, you know. He pretty much kicked me out of the house two days ago.”

“With his car,” Leia deadpans, brows furrowed. Luke sighs.

“I didn’t ask for that, you know. It’s just… His place is far away from the city. So he gave me a car.” He doesn’t mention the little fact that the car costs more than Leia’s cramped apartment, and when he brought it up to the security gate, the guy blanked for a few seconds before realizing it was Luke. Then he blanked for another few seconds before letting Luke in with an absentminded wave.

“He gave you a car that would cost my entire yearly paycheck to fix if you so much as scratched it. He gave you a room the size of my house, gave you access to an entire mansion complete with a gym, a pool, and an indoor theater. And all you do is  _ babysit _ ?”

“Yes, Leia. What else would I do?” He looks up and Leia doesn’t say anything, just watches him with an arched brow, and  _ then  _ it hits Luke. Heat immediately rises to his cheeks—and pools somewhere lower that he doesn’t want to think about—and he blurts out the next words without thinking. “You think Din’s my  _ sugar daddy?” _

Even though the Starbucks is loud as always, Luke is pretty sure the old couple at the neighboring table gives him weird looks. Leia drops her face into her hands.

Luke squeezes his coffee cup so much that coffee spills onto his hands. “That’s  _ not—”  _ he sputters, trying to ignore the hardness between his legs that doesn’t quite hate the idea of Din being his sugar daddy. “He would  _ never.  _ That’s not what this is. He’s just…a good boss.”  _ And hot. And has a six pack and muscular thighs. And maybe Luke dreamed of burying his head between those thighs more than once. _

And those thoughts are definitely not helping him.

“Luke, you can’t tell me this whole thing doesn’t look at least a  _ little bit _ suspicious,” Leia finally says, eyes full of concern. Luke hopes he doesn’t look as red or as  _ aroused  _ as he feels. “I just wanted to make sure you knew what you were doing.”

“I do,” Luke says, and it’s only half a lie. When it comes to his  _ job description,  _ he thinks he’s doing a pretty good job. Grogu seems to have warmed up to him enough that he doesn’t run to Din’s side the moment Din comes home. He still keeps his distance and barely makes any eye contact, but no matter—Grogu’s body language isn’t that difficult to read, and Luke has started to pick up on his tells. He also got Grogu a whiteboard and three packets of toy alphabet letters and he’s thinking of trying to teach the kid how to write. Nothing too intense, nothing that would push Grogu too hard, but Luke is pretty sure the kid is really smart, and it would maybe give Grogu another way to communicate with others without needing to use his words. Grogu already likes colors and drawing; Luke thinks writing wouldn’t come that hard.

Everything with  _ Grogu  _ is going well. Everything with  _ Din,  _ on the other hand…

Well, there’s been nothing going on there. And that’s the problem, because Luke  _ desperately  _ wishes that there  _ was  _ something. Instead, Din just treats him as an employee and maybe a tentative friend, and nothing more. Luke likes the time he spends with Din, whether it’s morning workouts or evening dinners, but sometimes he finds himself getting lost in Din’s bright, brown eyes and wishes that there was more to it than that. He wants Din to extend his hand over the table and hold Luke’s. He wants Din to teasingly bump his shoulder to his during their swimming sessions. He wants Din to cuddle with him on the couch like he does with Grogu.

And he wants Din to desire him, just as much as Luke desires Din.

It’s gotten worse since the fateful sheet incident. While Luke— _ thankfully _ —is more careful and hasn’t ruined his sheets again, he still finds himself hard and hot all over whenever the thoughts of Din fucking him slip into his mind. He found himself, twice in less than five days, stumbling into the bathtub, tearing his clothes away, and jerking himself off as he pretended it was Din’s hands on his cock, Din’s fingers playing with his nipples, Din’s palm hovering over his thighs and teasing him until he couldn’t take it, until he came all over himself yet again.

“Is that why you’re red all over?” Leia asks, taking Luke out of his thoughts. He realizes that he’s been staring off into the distance for the last minute, fingers twitching on his thigh, and  _ great, he’s hard.  _ He subtly shifts his jacket over his lap and faces Leia.

“Leia, I’m not that desperate,” he says, hoping his voice doesn’t betray him.

“Can you promise me, Luke?” Leia reaches forward, taking the hand Luke has on the table into hers. Her eyes are wide and vulnerable. “Can you promise that you’re safe at that house? That Din’s not having you do anything that makes you uncomfortable?”

_ Other than turning me on at the most inopportune moments?  _ “I promise.” Leia still doesn’t look convinced. She searches Luke’s face, and then leans back with crossed arms.

“I want to visit him,” she declares, and it’s final. Luke almost chokes on air, eyes wide, and thinks about Leia strutting into Din’s house, jabbing a finger at Din’s chest, saying  _ if you so much as think you can make a sugar baby out of my  _ brother…

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he chokes, trying to hide his blush behind his cup. Din  _ can’t  _ know what Leia suspects. “Besides, you already met him.”

“I think it’s a brilliant idea. And I met him for five minutes when he came to pick you up. That’s hardly enough time to get to know someone. I want to visit the house.”

“Grogu doesn’t like strangers.”

“Well, it’s a good thing he has a babysitter that can take him to another room while I talk to his father, then.”

_ “Leia _ ,”

“Or…” Leia drawls out, a mischievous smile flickering on her lips. “I can call our parents and tell them what I suspect. I wonder what Senator Amidala and Mayor Skywalker will think about their  _ son  _ selling his body off to some sketchy billionaire.”

They’d kill him, that’s what. Luke curls his hand into a fist as he stares at Leia, willing her to change her mind. Except Leia doesn’t back down, and Luke has to sigh.

“I’ll talk to Din about it.” A smile spreads on Leia’s face.

“Brilliant.”

* * *

It’s been two days, and Luke still doesn’t have the courage to ask Din about Leia’s visit.

He’s been trying to get the words out—attempted it multiple times now. Except he always ends up choking around them whenever Leia’s suspicions slip into his mind and he starts imagining Din pressing him down onto the mattress, tying his hands above him, and whispering  _ be good for me, baby,  _ into his ear as he eases his cock into Luke—

Then he thinks about Leia actually hearing those thoughts and assuming the worst, assuming it’s  _ Din  _ forcing him to do  _ that,  _ and he flushes in a mix of arousal and terror. He has to get Din and Leia to meet, or else the intrusive thoughts will never leave.

The opportunity presents itself one morning, as Din is cooking breakfast and Luke is helping by cutting the vegetables for the omelet, because that’s the only thing he can do without ruining the food. Luke is nibbling on the inside of his cheek, absentmindedly dicing the tomatoes, thinking about how to ask to bring Leia here.

_ My sister wants to come here.  _ It shouldn’t be that hard to say. It’s just six words and Din would  _ understand,  _ right? That Leia is just trying to make sure he’s treated well at his workplace? Sure, Leia can be intense, but Din already met her and she’s smart enough to not mention her  _ suspicions,  _ right?

“Is everything okay?” Luke jumps at Din’s voice and turns to him, cheeks flaming red. Din is leaning against the counter, brows raised, and he looks so…domestically  _ handsome  _ that Luke has to crush the flutter in his chest before he’s able to come up with something to say.

“Uh, yeah. Sure. Why wouldn’t it be?”

“You know I just wanted diced tomatoes, right?” Din gestures at the tomato under Luke’s hand and he realizes that he pretty much turned it into mush when he got lost in his thoughts. He sighs and cleans his hand onto his apron. “Luke, if there’s anything wrong with work—”

“Leia wants to come here,” he blurts out before Din can get far, and Din looks taken aback. Luke releases a shaky breath and starts drumming his fingers on the cutting board. “She wants to know where I work. But it’s okay if you say no. This is your place so I won’t force it on you—”

“Luke.” Din’s voice is soft and when Luke turns to him, he finds nothing but warmth in the other man’s brown eyes. He offers Luke a small smile. “You can invite anyone here as long as you let me know beforehand. I told you, you live here as much as me.”

“But I’m just a…” Luke trails off when Din glares at him. He lets out a shaky breath. “Okay. I’ll let her know.”

“Just text me her license plate so I can tell the guards to let her in and have someone guide her here. And call Cara so she can take Grogu.”

Luke hesitates only briefly, nibbling on his lower lip, before he straightens his shoulders. “I think Leia would love to meet Grogu.” He feels Din’s eyes on him as he grabs a carrot and starts cutting it.

“Grogu doesn’t like strangers, Luke.”

“I know.” Luke stops and turns to Din. “But he warmed up to me. I think… It might be good for him. And I’ll talk to Leia about it so Grogu feels safe and happy. She’s really good with kids. She has one herself.”

“Grogu isn’t like other kids—”

“Din, I know.” Luke wonders briefly about how smart it is to argue with this man about what’s best for his child, whom he loves so dearly, but Luke wasn’t lying to Leia when he said he knew what he was doing with Grogu. And meeting someone like Leia, one of the kindest people Luke knows, would be an important step. “I would be with him the entire time. And he doesn’t have to stay for Leia’s entire visit; I can just take him to his room if that’s what he wants. But I think he would like Leia.” Din stares at him, hesitation swimming behind his eyes. Knowing just how protective Din is over Grogu, Luke is not surprised, and for a moment he thinks Din won’t budge. But then the older man sighs and nods curtly.

“Okay. I, uh… I trust you.” Luke is so taken aback by the confession that he stares for a solid minute even as Din turns back to the bowl, continuing to beat the eggs. “Cara likes you, too, you know?” Din continues softly, eyes firmly focused on the beaten eggs. Luke’s grip around the knife loosens. He finds himself smiling.

“Really? I thought she was ready to shoot me for a moment there.”

“That’s how she is with every babysitter.”

“You’ve got yourself a protective girlfriend, huh?” The words leave Luke’s lips inadvertently. He means it as a complete joke but Din’s eyes snap up at him, and then he’s treated with a breathy laugh. And  _ no,  _ it definitely doesn’t make Luke’s insides turn into jelly. “What? What did I say?”

“Cara is just a friend, Luke. She’s more into girls.”

“Oh.” Luke feels his cheeks warm up. “I didn’t think that… I just meant it as a joke.” And that’s actually true. Looking back, Luke thinks that maybe he should’ve suspected something, but Din having a girlfriend just didn’t fit his gay fantasies so when Din claimed Cara was just a friend, he wholeheartedly accepted it. Truth be told, he had no idea where Din stood when it came to partners. For a moment he panics—what if Din is straight? It’s possible. It’s hard to get a read on the guy.

“As long as you don’t joke about it in front of her, you’ll probably live.” Then Din reaches around Luke, an arm half wrapped around Luke’s torso, and for a moment Luke forgets how to breathe. He looks up at Din and realizes just how  _ close  _ the man is to him and at this distance he can discern every single stubble on Din’s cheeks, every dip and crevice, and even the individual swirls of brown in Din’s eyes. There’s a mischievous grin on Din’s face that immediately heats Luke up and he’s pretty sure he’s flushed from head to toe.

“Besides,” Din murmurs and Luke can  _ feel  _ his breath on his ear. He barely hides the shiver that runs down his spine. “I prefer guys anyway.”

Luke almost cuts his finger when he brings the knife down harshly through the carrot.

* * *

It’s barely dark by the time Din walks into the club. It’s right after work and his armor is discarded back in his car. For such an early time, the club is still relatively packed, though the loud conversation slightly dies down when people spot him by the door.

He nods at them to continue and makes his way to the bar. His eyes spot the bartender immediately. He’s one of the newer recruits and when he sees Din, even under the dim lights of the club, Din can see the flush rising to his cheeks.

“Mand’alor,” the bartender greets him with a nod. “Your usual?” His hands are already going to grab alcohol bottles from behind him—every bartender learns his usual order when they take on the job—but Din shakes his head. He drums his fingers over the counter and briefly gazes over his shoulder to see if anyone’s watching, and then turns back to the bartender.

“I’m here to book an escort,” he says quietly, working around the knot in his throat. He doesn’t even know why he’s so anxious—it’s not the first time he’s been here for this very purpose. Still, this time it feels… _ different.  _ This time it isn’t a means to an end. He’s… _ aching  _ for something, something he can’t have and he shouldn’t want, and this is the only option to work off that tension. 

“Oh, okay. We have a number of openings right now.” The bartender pulls a folder from under the counter. “Do you have any preference?”

Din opens his mouth to say no, but then he stops. “Make sure he’s blonde,” he whispers quietly, hoping his flushed cheeks aren’t too noticeable. “And that he’s dressed up when I enter.” He eyes the bartender, almost waiting for him to make a comment about it, but the other man just nods. He flips through the pages and then places a photo in front of Din.

The photo is all wrong. The man’s hair is too light and too short, sticking up at the edges instead of falling on his forehead in soft waves. The lines of his face are too harsh and his eyes look dark and wild. It takes a second for him to shake his head.

“A darker blonde.” His voice is definitely hoarse now. “And longer hair. With, uh… With a fuller face.” Din looks away to avoid the judgment on the bartender’s face, except the man just shrugs. Din doubts he’d actually judge him for anything—he’s probably heard way more specific requests, way more twisted, even though guilt churns in Din’s stomach whenever he thinks about what he’s doing.

He should’ve gone home. He shouldn’t have come here in the first place. But then the bartender places another photo in front of him and a lump settles in Din’s throat. Before his eyes can find all that is wrong with the photo he nods curtly, and the bartender smiles.

“Perfect. He’s in room 2045.” He places a key in front of Din, and Din stares at it for a while. “How many hours?”

“…Two.”

“Okay, I’m booking the room right now. That’ll be…1500 upfront. Anything extra you do in the room, you’ll have to pay to your escort privately.”

Din places the cash in front of the bartender before he can think too much about it. He thinks the bartender wishes him a delightful night but he barely hears it over the pounding of his heart and the music in the club. He quietly makes his way to the private building behind the club, the music drifting off more and more as he moves away. When he finally stands in front of the door, he’s alone with his thoughts.

He uses the key to open the door, trying to keep the shakiness in his fingers to a minimum. Just like other rooms in the club, the walls are black and the ceiling is lined with string lights, bathing the room in a red glow. The room is bare other than the bed, a bedside table, and a couch—clients are expected to bring their own toys or anything else, just so that the club isn’t responsible for any contamination. Din knows there’s a drawer of condoms in the bedside table, as well as lube, and he shudders at the thought.

He shouldn’t be here. But then he hears a shuffle from the bed and his escort is standing in front of him. He freezes on the spot.

The resemblance is striking.

It’s not perfect. The escort’s hair is just a tad too short so that it doesn’t fall over his eyes. His cheeks are slightly thinner, and his eyes are a dull shade of grey—though Din doubts anyone can be a match to Luke’s striking blue eyes. Still, watching the escort stand in front of Din shamelessly, fingers playing with the waistband of his black sweatpants, Din is transported to a few days back. He remembers Luke’s sweatpants stained on the crotch with cum, he remembers Luke’s flushed face and messy hair, and he thinks of Luke in his room, alone, fingers bringing himself to the edge as his free hand clutches the sheets underneath him, back arched against the mattress…

His cock presses against his jeans, and a smile grows on the escort’s face. “Like what you see?” he murmurs as he steps forward. He presses a hand on Din’s cock. Din takes in a sharp breath and his eyes flutter close. Luke’s eyes swim in front of his vision, replacing the escort’s face, and suddenly Din feels like he’s back at the mansion instead of in an escort’s room. His fingers clench at his sides when Luke’s fingers travel up his hips, pressing against his bare skin under his t-shirt. “You’re already so hard for me and I barely touched you,” Luke murmurs, and a shudder runs down Din’s spine. Luke presses up against him, his hair tickling Din’s cheek. “You wear too many layers, Mand’alor.”

Din’s daydream shatters with the name. His eyes snap open and finds the escort looking up at him with dark, needy eyes, and it feels  _ wrong, wrong, wrong.  _ It’s the wrong shade of blue and Din has to look away. He quickly grabs the escort’s wrists.

“Can you wear a blindfold?” he rushes out, eyes firmly focused on the floor. The escort stills in front of him. “If you’re… If you’re comfortable with that.” The room is silent for a moment until Din feels the escort smile.

“As you wish, Mand’alor.”

“Call me Din. Please,” Din pleads, swallowing his shame. The escort gently pries his hands away from Din’s and they travel up to his neck.

“Din,” he whispers breathlessly, tugging at the collar of Din’s shirt. “I think this shirt would make a fine blindfold, don’t you think?”

The image of Luke wearing his shirt around his eyes slips into Din’s mind, and he’s hard all over again. He quickly nods, getting rid of his leather jacket and pulling the shirt off. He bundles up the black cloth in his hands and looks up, finding the other man with his eyes closed, waiting. Without the eyes to remind Din of the reality, it’s easy to pretend he’s standing in front of Luke.

With shaky hands, he wraps the shirt around the escort’s head, tying the arms. He looks down at the man and traces his face with his fingers, imagining that it’s the striking blue eyes behind the blindfold rather than dull grey. “Is this okay?” he murmurs and the escort nods. Din takes the man’s face in his hands. He brushes the man’s lower lip with his thumb and leans forward, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips.

It’s almost too easy to pretend it’s Luke, so much so that the question tumbles from his mouth the moment he pulls back. “Can I call you Luke?” Shame curls in his stomach, but then the escort hooks his fingers into Din’s pants and pulls him forward.

“You can call me whatever you want,” he murmurs, and Din forgets everything. He grabs Luke by his sweatpants and leans forward, mouth brushing right under his ear. He traces light kisses down Luke’s throat, to the edge of his t-shirt, holding him in place with an arm around his torso. Luke reaches down to his pants, unclasping the button, and he pulls Din’s cock out, hand firmly wrapping around Din’s length. He chokes out a moan against Luke’s collarbone and feels Luke’s breathless laugh reverberate inside him.

“You’re so sensitive,” Luke whispers, pumping his cock once, twice, and Din feels dizzy. He holds onto Luke’s shoulder and grabs his wrist, pulling back just enough to press his forehead against his.

“Let me lead.” He gently removes Luke’s hand, and his cock twitches desperately in the absence of Luke’s slick fingers. “Please.” He’s shivering in need and he thinks, if Luke grabs his cock again, he won’t be able to say no. But he’s been thinking about this for  _ days _ , and as much as he wants to bury his cock into Luke right now…he doesn’t want this to be just about  _ his pleasure.  _ He wants to turn Luke on, he wants to tease him, he wants to take his time and make Luke shiver and moan under him. He wants to get Luke so desperate that he begs to be fucked.

For a few seconds, the only sound in the room is Din’s labored breaths. Then Luke’s hands cup his cheeks. “Yes,” he moans against Din’s lips. “Yes, please,  _ Din.” _

That’s all he needs. He hauls Luke up onto his lap and moves him to the bed, gently placing him on the sheets. His hair sticks up from under the blindfold and fans out behind him, and his lips are swollen and red. Luke parts his legs but otherwise stays still, waiting for whatever Din wants. Din’s cock twitches again and he wraps his fingers around it, pumping once, before he removes the rest of his clothes and moves to the bed.

“You have too many layers on,” he murmurs, earning a laugh from Luke. He grabs the hem of Luke’s t-shirt, pulling it up, tracing the lines of Luke’s chest slowly and carefully. With every soft touch Luke shifts under him, and when Din twists one of his nipples, lingering there for just a bit longer, a moan leaves his lips.

“Din,  _ please,”  _ he begs, and Din smiles. He pulls the t-shirt up Luke’s arms and stops briefly.

“Do you mind being tied up?” Luke stills, and Din is just about to take it back when one of Luke’s hands grabs the railing behind him. Heat pools in Din’s crotch as he ties the t-shirt around Luke’s wrists to the railing. He moves down, gently tracing Luke’s hair and cheek. “I got you, Luke,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss on his lips, and then moving down his neck. His hands, in the meantime, move to Luke’s sweatpants. He hooks one finger around the waistband and moves it down, and his lips linger right above Luke’s crotch. Luke writhes under him, hands pulling against the tie, and moans.

“Din, I need you,” he whimpers, moving so that Din’s lips brush the tip of his cock. “Please,  _ I need—”  _ His words are cut short by a moan when Din presses a kiss to the base of Luke’s cock.

“You’re so hard for me, babe,” he murmurs and Luke’s cock twitches under his breath. He moves his lips up, fingers replacing where his lips left, and once he gets to the tip he stops. Luke writhes again, lifting himself up from the bed to chase Din’s touch, and he smiles. “Don’t move,” he orders, and presses a kiss right under the tip of Luke’s cock. Luke whines, hips shifting again, but Din clamps him down gently with one hand and slowly takes his cock into his mouth.

Luke is panting, and Din can tell it’s an effort to keep himself still. His thighs are shivering underneath Din’s grip and he pulls on the cloth around his fingers every now and then.  _ “Din _ ,” he moans when Din licks the precum from the tip of Luke’s cock and takes him in, one hand wrapped around the hilt of Luke’s cock. “Din,  _ please _ ,” Luke whines, as if he’s protesting how slow Din’s being. A laugh escapes Din’s throat and Luke’s cock twitches around his lips. “Please, fuck me, I need you,  _ Din—” _

“Shh,” Din murmurs around Luke’s cock, swiping his tongue around it and extracting another strangled moan from Luke. His fingers trace wherever his lips leave and he can feel that Luke is close. Precum is oozing out of him and Din sucks on it, making Luke moan and shift his hips up in an attempt to chase Din’s touch. When Din removes his lips, a whine escapes Luke’s throat.

“Do you…” Din pants, pleasure and need shivering up and down his spine and his cock jutting out, rubbing lightly against Luke’s thighs. “Do you want me to—”

Luke cuts him off with a roll of his lips, his cock hard against Din’s stomach. “Yes, Din, fuck me,  _ please. _ ” Din’s cock twitches with need and he moves away for only a second to grab the lube from the bedside table. His fingers are shaking so much that he spills almost half of it on Luke’s stomach, but Luke just laughs. Din spreads the lube on his hand and moves his fingers down the line of Luke’s ass, gently placing one finger against his opening. Luke writhes against the mattress as Din works him open, his breaths coming out in short pants, head pressed against the pillow and back arching. “Din,  _ please,  _ I need you—” he moans as Din moves in another finger, and then another, and finds the sensitive spot. A strangled moan escapes Luke. “Fuck me, please,  _ Din,  _ now.” Din’s cock twitches with need and he looks up at Luke, watches the parted lips and sweat shining on his skin, and he  _ needs to be inside him right now.  _ He gently removes his fingers even as Luke whines, and leans up to press a gentle kiss on Luke’s lips.

“I got you, Luke. Trust me,” he murmurs, and Luke just nods. Din reaches for the bedside drawer again and grabs a condom, ripping it off with his teeth. He slides it on and moves Luke’s legs, positioning himself so the tip is pressing against Luke’s hole. He looks up at Luke one last time. “Let me know if it’s too much.”

“ _ God fucking damn it,  _ Din, just fuck me already.” And that’s all Din needs. He slowly eases his cock into Luke, shivering when he feels Luke tighten around him, and makes sure Luke adjusts to it before he pushes in more. Luke moans and wraps one of his legs around his hips, pushing Din down to the hilt. Din feels dizzy for a moment, trying to steady himself on shaky arms. He feels Luke wriggle under him and his cock twitches, and it takes everything in him not to move, not to slam his hips against Luke’s ass. He opens his eyes and looks at Luke, making sure he’s fine, before he moves out and back in, taking it slow, making sure he’s not hurting Luke.

“Din,” Luke moans, tugging him with his legs. “Din,  _ please,”  _ and Din feels his restraints break. He quickens his pace, wrapping one arm around Luke to hold him steady, Luke moaning in tandem with his pumps. He moves his other hand around Luke’s cock, pumping him, bringing him to climax. Luke screams out his name as he comes, cum spilling over Din’s fingers and stomach, and the sight pushes Din over the edge as well.

They stay like that for what feels like forever before Din lifts himself up, eyes taking Luke in. The man looks spent underneath him, skin shimmering with sweat, lips parted, and Din thinks it’s the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen. He reaches up to untie Luke’s hands, and then presses a kiss on his lips. “You were great for me, Luke.”

Luke just hums, the corners of his lips tipping up into a smile. Din captures it with his lips again before he moves to his feet, gently caressing Luke’s hair. “I’ll go get a cloth. Keep the blindfold on.” Luke nods, and Din moves to the bathroom in the room. He cleans himself up and then gets one of the softer towels, wetting it, and he returns.

“I’m here,” he warns Luke before he gently cleans him up, moving the cloth over the bare, sensitive skin. Luke smiles under his touch and when Din starts to move away, he reaches and grabs Din’s arm.

“We still have time,” he murmurs, and Din stills. “Cuddle with me?”

Din knows he should say no but he looks up, and the man looks so much like Luke under the dim light. He wonders if he knows, if he can feel how much Din needs this. If he knows that whatever they are playing pretend for is something Din can never have. He lets out a shaky breath. “Sure,” he murmurs, putting the cloth aside and getting in bed next to the escort. The man throws his arm around Din, resting his head on Din’s shoulder, and Din feels something inside him break. He relaxes and closes his eyes, and for one last time he imagines pressing his cheek to Luke’s hair.

“Thank you,” the guy murmurs, tracing lines on Din’s chest.

All Din can do is nod. He knows this won’t last forever, he knows this is technically not what he wants and the man in his arms isn’t Luke, but he pretends for just a bit longer. He presses a kiss to Luke’s hair.

“Of course.” 


	9. i can go anywhere i want (just not home)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: very brief, very vague mention of pedophilia
> 
> hey y'all. so. just a heads up. it might take me a while to post the next chapter because i'm working on another AU for dinluke right now (thank you Discord for that one LMAO) and i have midterms, so i'll be busy in the next few days. i just wanted to let y'all know.
> 
> anyway, hope you like this chapter!
> 
> p.s. title is from My Tears Ricochet by Taylor Swift

Luke did something wrong.

He’s sure of it. At some point during the last week, somehow he messed something up. Said something wrong, did something that made Din uncomfortable, or  _ by God  _ Din uncovered Luke’s not-so-tiny crush on him, and now Din’s avoiding him.

Normally, Luke wouldn’t have cared. It’s been five days, and Din does work a lot. Maybe he’s taking overnight jobs, and that’s why he doesn’t come home until pretty late in the evening. Maybe he’s leaving early and that’s why he’s not joining Luke for their workout sessions. Maybe he finally trusts Luke enough with Grogu to leave them alone for longer periods and he was simply returning to his routine. But for some reason, Luke doubts any of those are true. Even if Din worked a lot, even if he was taking overnight jobs and leaving early, Luke knows just how much Din loves Grogu and that he’d do his damn best to spend as much time with the kid as possible. The fact that Din seems to be home exclusively whenever Grogu is sleeping makes no sense.

In the last five days, Luke spent maybe a total of ten minutes with Din, and that was only so Din could tell him that he sent his first paycheck to the bank. Luke tried to ask him then whether everything was okay, but all Din did was look away, clench his jaw and nod.

He left before Luke could get another word out of him.

At some point, Luke was so worried that he even asked  _ Cara  _ how Din was doing. Sure, Cara could shoot him point blank, but he needed to know,  _ damn it.  _ Except all Cara said was that it was something Luke shouldn’t worry himself over.

That didn’t help one bit. But Luke didn’t know any of Din’s other friends, so he really didn’t have a choice but to accept Cara’s words. 

It’s a Thursday afternoon when Luke’s worry hits maximum levels. It’s the sixth day in a row that Din had missed their workout session, sixth day in a row he was out of the house before Luke could even wake up, sixth day in a row he didn’t even offer him a  _ good morning.  _ Luke nibbles on his lower lip, sitting cross-legged on the couch, as he runs through everything he did last week in his mind, trying to find the incident.

The only thing he can think about is the fateful breakfast when Din told him he liked guys, but… Luke wasn’t  _ that  _ obvious, right? Sure, he blushed a little bit…and by that he meant a lot. And maybe he almost cut his finger.  _ Twice.  _ And he stumbled over every other sentence. But Din was the one  _ teasing him.  _ He couldn’t be mad at Luke for  _ that. _

Luke slips away from his thoughts when he feels a tug on his sweatpants. He turns to Grogu, who drops two letters on Luke’s lap, head slightly tilted Luke’s way even though most of his attention seems to be on the drawing he’s making. Luke takes the letters—O and K.

For just a moment, pride flickers in his chest. It’s been just over a week since he started teaching letters to Grogu, and he seems to be getting better and better at recognizing them. He still can’t write on paper, but if Luke gives him the toy letters, he can pick the ones he needs. He’s learned to spell both Luke and Din’s names, his own name, and simple words like  _ hello, dad,  _ and, well,  _ OK.  _ Luke smiles.

“I’m okay, kiddo.” He turns to Grogu, placing the letters next to him. It seems like Grogu doesn’t believe him because he stops drawing, pushing the letters closer to Luke again. A shaky breath escapes Luke. He stares at the letter O for a few seconds.

“Do you think your father…doesn’t like me?” The words don’t exactly feel right on his lips because there’s  _ so much more  _ to whatever’s going on with Din than a simple friendship, but  _ those thoughts  _ weren’t for Grogu’s ears.

Grogu doesn’t say anything. Instead, he grabs his pencil again and keeps drawing, but Luke has a feeling that his ears are open. He sighs and continues. “He’s been kind of ignoring me, I guess. And I know it’s stupid. We’re barely friends. But I just… I want us to be on good terms. So whatever I did, I just want to fix it.” He stares at his hands for a while, at his calloused fingertips, and turns to Grogu. “Do you think I should buy him a gift or something? Would that make it better?”

Grogu stops and blinks, and reaches for the letters. He picks N and O. “Right,” Luke swallows. “No gift, then.” Luke turns to the TV, absentmindedly watching whatever show is on, before he leans his head on the back of the couch. “But then what do I do? It’s so  _ awkward  _ between us now because he just  _ doesn’t talk to me.  _ How do I get him to talk to me, kiddo?” He turns to Grogu, not really expecting an answer. Instead, Grogu scribbles on his drawing a little bit more, and then puts the drawing right next to Luke.

With an arched brow, Luke picks it up. It takes him a while to make out the shapes. He’s pretty sure the orange blob with a mop of yellow over the head is him. Next to him is a lighter blob with brown hair and silver… _ armor? _ Luke’s finger swipes over the figure before he realizes it must be Din. He traces down the arm and comes to a complete stop when he realizes what it is.

He’s holding hands. With Din. Grogu drew him  _ holding hands with Din and is that a heart between them _ ? Heat rises to Luke’s cheeks and his eyes snap to Grogu.

“Uh, Grogu? What does this mean?” he asks, holding the drawing so tightly that it almost crumples in his hands. It doesn’t seem like Grogu minds anyway; he looks somewhat amused as he pushes three letters in front of Luke. L, U, and V. It’s not exactly correct, but the implication is there, and Luke has to hide his cheeks behind his hands. “You want me to tell your father that  _ I love him?” _

Grogu glances up at Luke briefly before he turns to the letters. By the time he’s reaching to E and S, Luke cuts him off with a thin voice. “Grogu, do you want me to get  _ fired?  _ I can’t tell Din that I love him. _ ” _

The kid tilts his head to the side, confused. He then drops the Y, E, and S right next to Luke, as if saying that yes, Luke can definitely do that. He then turns back to the table, grabbing another paper from next to him, and starts drawing again.

Luke stares at the drawing in his hand probably longer than necessary, and reality hits him like a ton of bricks. When he asked Grogu about the meaning of the drawing, it never once crossed his mind to tell the kid that he didn’t love Din. His gut reaction wasn’t that Grogu’s words weren’t true, it was that he couldn’t tell them to Din.

…He’s so  _ fucked. _

* * *

It’s nine p.m. when Cara finds Din at the café. He’s sitting at a quiet corner, three reusable cups in front of him, his fingers fiddling with the last one. There’s a flask resting right next to Din’s hand, and Cara can imagine that whatever’s in that cup, it’s  _ definitely  _ not for children.

It isn’t the first time in the last few days that she’s found Din here. With a sigh, she makes her way over to the man and plops down. When Din gets into one of his  _ moods,  _ Cara usually lets him be so he can work through it on his own, but this time…

This time, they don’t have the time for that. Whatever Din is going through, he needs to resolve  _ quickly,  _ otherwise it’s highly likely that his already tentative control over his life will shatter.

“You’re moping,” Cara states flatly, directly getting to the point. Din glances up, eyes blank, before he turns back to his coffee cup, nails scratching the side. Cara gently grabs his hand and moves it away. “I’ve seen you with two cups before. This feels kind of excessive.” She waits for Din to shoot back a quip, but instead, Din shakes off her hand and returns to his coffee cup.

Cara’s shoulders tighten. So it’s  _ serious.  _ Biting back her jokes, she leans over the table, arms crossed. “Din, what the fuck happened?” Din doesn’t answer, but the corner of his mouth twitches and his hands tighten around the cup. It’s only for a brief second, but Cara doesn’t miss it. “Is it about Grogu? Is he okay?”

Granted, Cara assumes that if something were to happen to Grogu, Din would be at the house with the kid, but that’s the only thing she can think of. Din winces and finally shakes his head.

“Grogu is fine. He’s with…” Din has to swallow before he continues. “Luke’s good with him.” Cara arches a brow. It’s probably the first time Din ever confessed that a  _ babysitter  _ is good for Grogu.

This is the first time since he adopted Grogu that he spent his nights at a café, moping, instead of immediately going back to his kid to make sure Grogu is okay. With  _ Grogu,  _ Din seems to trust Luke enough to leave them alone for long periods of time.

“But you’re avoiding Luke.” It’s not really a question, and Din doesn’t answer. His expression doesn’t even change but his shoulders tighten, and that’s enough of an answer to Cara. She stops drumming her fingers on the table when she realizes. “You like him.” She waits for Din to deny it, but it doesn’t come. Cara’s brows climb to her forehead. After years and years of teasing, it’s probably the first time that she’s right about Din’s feelings for someone. “You actually like Luke.”

“I hired an escort.” The confession tumbles from Din’s lips, and Cara stops. Din gulps around the words, playing with the edges of his coffee cup again. “A blonde escort.”

The implication is clear and Cara bites back her words. In another life, she’d tease Din endlessly about it, but in another life, she doubts Din would be so distraught about it.

“Does Luke know?” That’s when Din’s eyes snap up, eyes cold, mouth twisted down.

“What do you  _ think?”  _ he hisses, removing his hands from the coffee cup as if he’d crush it if he didn’t. “This is… It’s not okay. I can’t…have these thoughts about him. I can’t think about  _ fucking him  _ every time I see him.” He turns away, looking out the window, and Cara notices the slight tremor in his throat. She thinks about all of her previous employers, who never even bothered to hide their twisted thoughts—all the HR complaints that eventually went to nowhere. She knows she  _ should  _ be disgusted about what Din did, considering her past, but all she can think about is that Din, instead of going back home and possibly forcing sex onto Luke—not that Cara thinks it would be forced—is hiding out here because he’s  _ ashamed of  _ what he’d done, and he’d much rather stay away if that means Luke is comfortable at his workplace.

“You could’ve asked him about it,” she says softly, only because she’s curious about his reaction. “I’m sure Luke would’ve been down for it.”

“He’s my  _ employee _ . I would never… How would you feel if your boss told you that he was attracted to you? How would you feel if they said that they hired a  _ lookalike  _ to fuck?”

_ I think it might turn Luke on.  _ Cara quickly discards that thought and focuses on her friend.

“I agree that it’s not…ideal,” she confesses, earning a snort from Din. “But listen to me. You could’ve asked Luke to have sex with you. You could’ve held it over his head, you could’ve told him that he’d be fired if he didn’t. God knows you wouldn’t be the only one to do it. But instead, you hired an escort to reign in whatever need you had, so you wouldn’t make Luke uncomfortable. So he didn’t feel obligated to do something he didn’t want. I don’t think it would be a stretch to call it  _ mature _ .”

Din’s eyes snap to her. “Cara, it’s disgusting,” he whispers, and she can see it in his eyes that he wholeheartedly believes it. She sighs.

“If you ask me, I wouldn’t tell Luke any time soon. But you didn’t hurt anyone, Din.” She stops briefly and remembers Luke’s wide, blue eyes when he asked her if Din was okay. The slight tremor in the boy’s voice, the fidgety fingers, the forced nonchalance that did nothing to hide his pain… Maybe her words aren’t exactly honest, but she doubts it’s what Din needs to hear right now.

Besides, there are more pressing matters. She sighs, eyes flickering to the window briefly. “There’s something else,” she says, her voice quieter now. Din arches a brow, fingers stilling around the coffee cup. Somehow, he’s always able to tell when Cara’s being serious. “I just talked to Greef. He thinks Gideon will walk.”

Silence engulfs the table, and the usual chatter of the café feels too far to Cara. She turns to Din, who’s staring at her wide-eyed, previous worries completely forgotten. “What do you mean he’ll  _ walk?”  _ His voice cracks at the last word and it breaks something inside Cara. She pushes through the knot in her throat.

“There isn’t enough evidence. His lawyers are ruthless. Unless we can come up with something within the next week, we can’t hold him anymore.”

“Cara, I  _ caught  _ him in the act. I  _ testified. _ ”

“So did about fifty of his so-called friends. They all claim he’s an upstanding guy, that he isn’t capable of doing something like that. It’s your words against them.”

“Why would I  _ lie?”  _ Cara doesn’t say anything. Words are stuck in her throat and she looks away, hoping her tears aren’t as noticeable as they feel. Din is very, very still across from her. “Because of  _ Grogu?” _

“You’re his father now.” Cara is quiet, as if she’s talking to a wild animal. “His lawyers claim that you’re lying to protect him.” She turns to him when the silence stretches. Din’s eyes are blank and his hands are loosely wrapped around the coffee cup. He looks like his world has suddenly turned upside down—and Cara thinks it’s probably not far from the truth.

Then, suddenly, Din’s eyes focus and he stands up. “I need to go,” he mutters, jerkily grabbing the coffee cup and alcohol flask. Half of the coffee spills on the table. Cara tries to reach for him, but it’s too late.

“Din!” she calls after him but he’s already out of the café.

* * *

Luke never believed in stress cleaning.

Sure, he’s heard people talk about it. He saw Leia obsessively clean the counter or the stove whenever she was anxious about work. He knows it’s something people do to let off some steam. Except, for him, cleaning is something you do when you absolutely _have to._ It’s boring, it’s stressful, and sometimes it’s just hard to get some stains off the counter and why does so much oil spill onto the stove and _can the floors just suck the dirt in instead of accumulating them_?

Translation: Luke doesn’t like cleaning. He never thought once that he’d be the type to stress clean. Except it’s 10 pm, Din is still not home, there’s a drawing of him and Din holding hands in his pocket that  _ Din’s kid  _ gave him, and Luke has absolutely nothing to do other than  _ clean.  _ He tried reading, he tried watching TV, he even tried working out, yet during all that his mind so easily drifted off to thinking about Din that he eventually had to give up. Somehow, trying to get every single stain off of the counter is the only thing keeping him sane right now.

He wishes Grogu hadn’t gotten tired so early today. He really could use the kid’s presence.

Instead he sighs and stares at the cloth in his hand, which accumulated a thin layer of dirt. The stove looks clean enough, he wiped down the counters twice, the dishwasher is running, he swept the floors… He could wash the sheets.

_ At 10 pm? _

_ Fuck you,  _ he whispers to his mind, dropping the cloth aside. He moves out of the kitchen to the living room, eyes scanning the place to see if there’s anything he can do, when he hears the lock turn. His heart does a little leap. After a couple of seconds, the door is yanked open, and harsh footsteps approach the living room.

Luke stays pretty much frozen on the spot as Din stumbles into the house—the earliest he’s been back in a week. Luke’s first instinct is to hide but it’s too late for that, and he finds himself staring at Din, hands clammy and heart slamming against his ribs, and—

Is Din  _ crying?  _

The knot in Luke’s throat loosens and instead, he finds himself frowning. He notices that Din’s cheeks are collapsed, his eyes look hollow, and his hair falls over his forehead in messy curls. “Din?” he says, voice somehow steady, as if he’s forgotten all that he’s been worried about in the last few days after seeing the man in front of him so… _ disheveled.  _ “Is everything okay?”

Din doesn’t answer and just stares at him, eyes wide, lips trembling. A tear streams down his cheek but he doesn’t even bother to wipe it away. Luke takes a tentative step forward. “Hey, if you need anything, I’m here. You can talk to me. Always.”  _ It’s your boss you’re talking to,  _ a voice in his head whispers but he quickly shuts it down. By definition, Din may be his boss, but until this week, Luke admittedly saw him more as a friend. It only became abundantly clear to him that he was the  _ employee  _ once Din started to avoid him, once the moments of tentative friendship were taken away.

Still, none of that mattered to Luke seeing Din like… _ this.  _ Leia always told him that he was good at reading people, good at reading what they feel and need, and Din right now doesn’t need an employee. He needs a  _ friend. _

“Din? Can you tell me what’s wrong?” Luke takes another couple of steps, and now he’s almost standing in front of Din. He could even hold the man’s arm if he reached out—

Din steps back so suddenly that it startles Luke. He holds onto the wall right behind him. “He’ll get away,” he whispers, voice hoarse, and before Luke can even ask who he’s talking about, Din spins around and rushes to the stairs.

It’s not hard to guess that Din’s on the third floor. Luke climbs to the second floor, hesitating in front of the stairs. Din’s words from his first week ring in his ears.  _ Third floor’s off limits.  _ And now that it seems like Din sees him more as an employee than anything, he knows he shouldn’t push his luck by following Din upstairs. Logically, he knows it.

Except Din is upset, and every cell in Luke’s body is telling him to follow. To make sure Din’s alright. He nibbles on his lower lip, one foot placed on the first stair, when he hears a crash. It sounds a lot like broken glass.

Luke quickly takes the rest of the steps up.

The third floor is smaller compared to the rest of the house. It’s just one room with a slanted ceiling, kind of like an attic, except it’s much more spacious. Luke glances around briefly and his face pales when he sees the walls.

So the weapons in the garage are not the only ones in the house, and Luke can tell that these ones aren’t for decorative purposes at all.

His eyes then fall onto the setup below the weapons, three large monitors on top of an extended desk. It reminds Luke of the setup of a Twitch streamer, except he doubts Din’s using it for streaming purposes at all. There are stacks of files next to the monitors right next to a printer, and a bulletin board on the left side that reminds Luke of a crime board.

Luke tells himself that Din works for the police, that he told him so, but he still feels cold inside…until he spots Din. The older man is curled up against the wall, broken vase pieces under his feet, face covered with his hands. He looks so…young, so vulnerable that it seems impossible this  _ room of weapons  _ belong to him. And Luke realizes that he’s not scared.

Yes, he’s living in a sketchy mansion inside a large land with people who treat Din like their king. Yes, there’re guns and knives covering the walls around him. Yes, Din’s claims about working with the police are flimsy at best and Luke still doesn’t know what that work entails. But…he knows Din, and he knows deep in his heart that Din would never hurt him.

He kneels in front of Din, hands hovering in the space between them. “Din?” he says softly. Din takes in a sharp breath and for a moment, Luke expects him to kick Luke out. Except the words never come, and Din doesn’t make any indication that he doesn’t want Luke there, so he continues. “Hey, I’m here. Is it okay if I hold your hands?” He extends his fingers but stops short of actually taking Din’s wrists into his. After an excruciating five seconds of silence, Din nods.

Luke gently grabs Din’s wrists and pulls his hands away from his face. Hot tears are smeared over Din’s cheeks, little droplets still clinging to his stubble. With an impulsive urge, Luke wipes Din’s tears away with one hand, the other still holding Din’s wrists.

“Do you want to tell me what’s going on?” he says softly, searching Din’s gaze. Pain flickers in the dark brown eyes and Din looks away, lips pressed into a thin line.

“He hurt Grogu.” The words are quiet and Luke has to lean in to hear properly. “I found him with Grogu. He was…” Din’s voice trails off and he ducks his head, tears filling his eyes all over again. He doesn’t finish his sentence, but Luke doesn’t miss the implications. Something cold settles in his heart. “And there isn’t enough evidence. He’ll walk.”

The ice inside Luke starts to burn up, and he has to clench his fingers to reign in his anger. “Who is it?” he finds himself asking, blood pounding in his ears. Din’s eyes snap up at Luke’s tone. He hesitates only for a second.

“Moff Gideon.” Luke nods curtly, repeating the name in his mind several times to make sure he doesn’t forget it. He then squeezes Din’s wrist.

“Din, I need you to do something for me, okay?” He keeps his voice low but serious. Din looks confused, but he doesn’t interrupt Luke. “You have to stay away from Gideon. Going after him right now, hurting him in any way, won’t help your case.” Din seems like he wants to argue, but Luke is quicker. “I know you want to protect Grogu, but the best way to do that is to make sure Gideon’s legally sent to jail.”

“Luke, there isn’t enough evidence—”

“Let me worry about that. Okay? Trust me. I won’t let Gideon walk away from jail.” Luke cups Din’s cheek and turns his eyes to him, so that Din knows he’s not joking. At first, Din seems hesitant, as if he’s wondering how a babysitter could help with the Gideon situation, but then he nods. The insecurity never leaves his eyes, and Luke realizes that the only reason Din chose to trust him is that he doesn’t have another choice.

Unless Luke comes through, Gideon will walk.

Luke clenches his teeth and promises to himself. He won’t let that happen. For Grogu’s sake…and for Din’s.


	10. they told me all my cages were mental

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: mentions of pedophilia, panic attacks
> 
> sorry this took me a while to post! it's midterms week and i was pretty much working on the dinluke supervillain AU all weekend (if you haven't read it, you should. it's named you left me no choice but to stay here forever. *whispers* a sequel might be coming soon), so i didn't get a chance to write. but hopefully you like this!
> 
> also, thank you to my beta liz-ee on Tumblr. she's the best!
> 
> p.s. title is from This Is Me Trying by Taylor Swift

The moment Luke pulls up in front of his parent’s cozy house with the car he got from Din, he regrets not taking Leia up on the offer to borrow her car.

Anakin and Padme Skywalker are sitting in the backyard, next to their little pool, when Luke arrives; Padme on her computer typing what looks like an aggressive email and Anakin sipping his drink with a book in his hand. When Luke pulls his car into the driveway, Anakin looks up—

And promptly spits out whatever is inside his cup all over his book. Padme looks up with a frown, ready to complain, but then her eyes find Luke’s car and they widen.

Luke stupidly realizes only then that he just pulled up to his parents’ driveway, who still don’t know about his new job, in a multimillion dollar car.

He curses himself in his head, but the damage is done. He gets out, trying to find an excuse for the car other than “My boss might be an eccentric billionaire who just hands car keys around like they’re chocolate,” when Anakin and Padme appear in front of him.

Anakin stares at the car for about ten seconds before he turns to Luke. “That’s a Ferrari,” he deadpans, eyes watching his son. Luke is pretty sure he turns a bright shade of red under his father’s intense gaze.

“Uh huh,” he murmurs, closing the door and locking the car. “It’s, uh…second-hand?”

Anakin stares at him some more, and then turns to the car that doesn’t even have one speck of dirt on it. “That’s a  _ brand new Ferrari, _ ” he corrects himself. “I just saw the ads for it. It has a market price of over a million dollars.”

Right. Leave it to Anakin to know his cars. Luke huffs out a breath, playing with the keys in his hand. “Would you believe me if I said I borrowed it from a friend?” he asks meekly. Anakin arches a brow. “Right. How about work benefits?” The other brow joins, and Luke realizes exactly what Anakin is thinking. “Dad, I didn’t steal the car,” he sputters, almost dropping the car keys.

“I was just wondering if I needed to bribe someone to drop robbery charges against my son.”

_ “Dad, _ ” Luke complains just as Padme lightly punches her husband’s arm. She at least seems to have gotten over the initial shock, and offers Luke one of her bright smiles.

“Don’t listen to your father, Luke. I think he’s just jealous that you’ve got a better car than him.” She walks around her husband and pulls Luke into a hug.

Five minutes later, once Padme and Luke are able to convince Anakin to stop staring at the car, they settle in the backyard. Luke remembers a time, not too long ago, that he thought his parents’ backyard was enormous—with a decently-sized pool, a hot tub, and a small backhouse, it screams  _ rich.  _ Yet when he enters it, his first thought is that the pool is  _ cute— _ nothing compared to the Olympic sized pool in Din’s house, where Luke can swim and feel like he’s actually getting a workout. The hot tub is a nice addition, but Din’s gym has a sauna right next to it, and there’s the spectacular ocean view that Luke can’t forget. All in all, the backyard looks cute and cozy.

Luke never once thought he’d associate those two words with the Skywalker residence.

“So, Luke,” Padme says as she comes back with three cups of coffee and a pile of chocolate. “It’s true then that you got a new job?”

Luke’s eyes find his mother’s. “You’ve been talking to Leia?” Panic flares in Luke’s stomach when he thinks about what Leia might’ve told them about Din. “Uh, what did she say?”

“That you moved out for work. She’s been very vague about it.” Padme, always the politician, doesn’t outright say she’s worried and instead hides it behind a sweet smile. “Your father and I were curious. What do you do for work?”

“Are you working for Ferrari?” Anakin blurts out, and Luke’s eyes snap at him. Padme arches a brow but for once, she doesn’t say anything. She just turns to Luke curiously and—yep, she’s wondering the same thing.

“No, I’m, uh… Babysitting. It’s kind of a twenty-four-seven thing.” Luke watches as Padme’s eyes widen and Anakin’s mouth drops open. “I live at the house,” he adds meekly. “Uh. Rent free.” He wraps his hands around the coffee cup to ground himself. A part of him knows he should stop talking but both Anakin and Padme are staring at him, Luke feels fidgety, and fidgety Luke has never been good at keeping his mouth shut. “My boss gave me the car. To use. In case I needed to travel. Well, not gave me. Let me borrow. I’m pretty sure.” He presses his lips together and watches his parents’ expressions turn into horrified. Luke looks away and his eyes fall onto the pool behind them. “He has an Olympic sized pool, too,” he blurts out, and then lifts the cup to his mouth so quickly that he not only burns his lips, but also spills a few droplets on the table.

At least the burn keeps him from saying anything else. Putting all of it out there like  _ that,  _ Luke realizes why Leia was so worried now. To an outsider, it really does sound like Din is Luke’s sugar daddy.

And that’s exactly what Luke shouldn’t be thinking in front of his  _ parents _ .

After what feels like years of silence, Anakin breaks it. “How  _ rich  _ is he?” he blurts out, earning a glare from Padme, but it does bring a smile to Luke’s face.

“Ani, you can’t just ask people that.”

“What do you mean I can’t ask that? This is my son’s job we’re talking about.”

“Your son is  _ twenty-eight—” _

“And I’m still his father. I damn well have the right to make sure he’s not roped into the shady business of some eccentric rich type.” Anakin narrows his eyes at Luke. “This…rich guy doesn’t have you do some weird rich person stuff, does he?”

Luke remembers just how much Leia and Anakin butt heads, despite being so similar to each other. He sighs. “I told Leia the same thing last week. He’s not that kind of a person. I think… He just cares about his son and wants the best for him.” Luke remembers the exact reason he wanted to visit his parents, and straightens his shoulders. “Speaking of which… I need to ask a favor of you.” He drums his fingers on the table, eyeing Anakin and Padme.

“If you need an alternative job, I can easily find you one—”

“Ani.” Padme, the only person ever to be able to shut Anakin up, puts a hand on her husband’s arm. “Anything you want, Luke.”

Luke hesitates briefly, but then Din’s terrified brown eyes swim in front of him and he thinks of the promise he made to the man. “Do you know Moff Gideon?” he asks, hands tightly clasped around his coffee cup.

Anakin’s brows furrow, but recognition does shine in his eyes. “I think he’s some sort of big business person. Haven’t heard a lot of nice things about him.” He arches a brow. “Please tell me you’re not working for Moff Gideon.”

“What? Ew. No.” From what little Luke heard about Gideon from Din, he cannot imagine Din being even remotely like Gideon. He locks his eyes with Anakin’s. “I need him to go to jail.”

Anakin freezes and arches a brow. For once, there’s no hint of sarcasm in his eyes. “For what?” he asks softly. Luke bites down on his lip, thumbs rubbing the rim of his coffee cup. He watches the coffee swirl for a few seconds before he looks up.

If he wants his father’s help, he needs to give him as much information as possible. He knows that if Din knew, he’d be fine with it, too.

“About a year ago, a friend of mine caught him with a child,” he starts slowly. A soft gasp escapes Padme’s mouth and she grasps Anakin’s hand. “The kid was only four. My friend brought him to the police and testified against him, but Gideon’s lawyers tore down his testimony because Gideon was beaten half to death and my friend ended up adopting the child. If we don’t find something else against him, he’ll walk.” Luke lifts his eyes to look at his father, and he hopes his desperation shines through them. “I wouldn’t have come to you if we weren’t desperate, but we have less than a week to come up with evidence.”

Anakin searches Luke’s face for a few seconds. “Is this about your boss’s kid?” he asks, and Luke’s shoulders slump.

“Does it matter? It’s a kid,” he counters. “And Gideon wouldn’t have stopped at one. There has to be a trail, Dad. We just… The police just need help discovering it.” 

“Oh, Luke,” Padme whispers, a hand reaching out to Luke’s. Her touch is warm and grounding, and she offers him a smile. “We’ll do whatever we can, okay? You can trust us.” Her eyes are soft, but Luke can see the anger behind them. He gulps and nods.

If there’s one thing to be said about Padme Skywalker, it’s that she won’t let this go until she’s sure Gideon is behind bars. And that’s all Luke could ever ask for.

“You really care about this kid, don’t you?” With his father’s question, Luke’s shoulders tighten. He doesn’t see the point in lying. He offers a curt nod. Anakin keeps his eyes on Luke’s face a while longer before he nods as well. Relief washes over Luke.

“Thank you,” he says, turning his hand so he can squeeze his mother’s hand. Anakin offers Luke a tight smile, but then a frown pulls his brows together.

“That doesn’t mean I’m okay with whatever job this guy’s having you do, by the way. I will not hesitate to barge into that mansion of yours and give him a piece of my mind if necessary. And do tell him that.”

_ “Dad,”  _ Luke whines, but a smile pulls his lips and the tension in the garden dissolves. For a moment, Luke wants to tell his father that he’d like Anakin to try—that Din has an entire room worth of weapons that he probably wouldn’t hesitate to use, nevermind the well protected lands surrounding the mansion. But he can actually imagine Anakin launching an all out attack at Din’s place if he learned that, so he wisely keeps his mouth shut.

Still, Luke is grateful for Anakin and Padme. It’s reassuring to know that he has family members in his corner that won’t hesitate to fight for him if needed.

* * *

_ Greef is frustrated. _

_ And for once, his anger isn’t directed at whatever criminal Din brought in. It’s directed at Din, the man side-eyeing him from his position at his desk, possibly thinking about whether he can get away with throwing him into a holding cell without bringing down the anger of Mandalorians onto himself. _

_ It seems like he decided the answer is no, because no one really bothers Din as he sits in the break room of the police station. _

_ Maybe Greef is right. Maybe he should regret what he did. His gloves are red and torn at knuckles, dried blood covers half of his armor and helmet, and last he’s heard, the doctors aren’t even sure whether Gideon will live, let alone be able to go back to his regular life without extensive physical therapy. But there isn’t an ounce of regret in his bones. _

_ He’s heard Gideon’s heart stopped once on the way to the hospital. He wishes it stayed that way. _

_ His hands tighten around his coffee cup and he watches the liquid swirl, glad that his face is hidden behind the helmet. He quickly blinks away his tears, trying to get rid of the images haunting his mind, even though he doubts he’ll be able to forget it for  _ years _. _

_ Lifting his head, he skims the police station, just to have something to do. He comes to a complete stop when he sees a familiar face sitting next to an empty desk. _

_ For someone who’s just been through something incredibly traumatic, the kid is oddly quiet. _

_ Din watches him for a while. The kid is staring at his hands, fingers curling and uncurling around each other and tapping on his knee every now and then. Whenever there’s a loud noise in the police station—which is quite often—he winces and his hands twitch as if to cover his ears, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t look up, doesn’t make eye contact with anyone, doesn’t look anywhere else outside of his hands. _

_ And pretty much no one looks at the kid. _

_ Impulsively, Din pushes himself away from the counter in the break room and makes his way to the kid. He can feel Greef’s eyes on his back, as if warning him to not do something stupid again, but he doesn’t care. He stops at least five feet away from the kid’s chair and slowly kneels down. _

_ “Hey, kid,” he murmurs, his voice distorted through the helmet. The kid doesn’t look up at him, but he does stop fidgeting and tilts his head to the side. He curls his hands inward and tucks his legs under the chair, as if trying to make himself as small as possible. Five seconds later, he starts fidgeting with his fingers again, though his movements are smaller now. _

_ Din feels something crack inside him. He almost wants to reach out and unclasp the kid’s hands but he stops himself. The kid is already tense, and an armored man reaching forward won’t help right now. _

_ Din lowers himself to the floor and sits cross-legged in front of the kid, and then takes his helmet off. When the lights of the police station bounce off of the silver surface, the kid’s eyes briefly flicker up. _

_ “You like the helmet?” Din asks softly, a smile dancing on his lips. The kid doesn’t take his eyes off of it. “It’s shiny, isn’t it? Well, I do have to clean it up a little bit”—he absentmindedly tries to scratch off the dried blood—“but it still works. See?” Din looks up briefly to catch one of the lights in the room and gently directs it onto the kid’s palms. The light is faint and nothing more than a hazy blob of white, but it looks like the kid enjoys it. _

_ “You wanna know why I wear it?” Din says after a while, voice soft. The kid stops trying to catch the light and tilts his head to the side curiously. “I don’t like it when people stare at me. This way, I can hide whenever I want.” He spins the helmet around so that the visor is facing him, and then puts it in front of himself on the floor. “You can try it if you want.” _

_ The kid stares at the helmet for a while, and then he slides off of the chair. The helmet almost slips from his small, chubby hands, but he somehow manages to lift it up enough to slide it over his head. It’s enormous on him, reminding Din of bobbleheads, and the corners of his lips quirk up when the kid pats on the visor. Then he hears a soft breath and realizes—it’s the kid’s laugh. It’s quiet through the modulator, almost indiscernible, yet it fills Din’s chest with warmth. _

_ “You like it?” he asks quietly. The visor turns to him and the kid nods, plopping down on the floor across from Din, legs crossed. It takes Din a few moments to realize the kid is mirroring his posture. He finds himself laughing. _

_ He opens his mouth to tell the kid he can keep the helmet, but the words don’t come to him. His eyes search the helmet, the kid’s posture, the bony arms and baggy clothes, and there’s a sudden yearning in his heart. He doesn’t want to walk away from the kid. He doesn’t want to let go. _

_ His eyes flicker to Greef, who meets his gaze. The man’s face is softer now. He turns back to the kid and makes his decision. “Hey, kid.” The kid’s visor tilts up and Din can imagine his eyes, wide and curious. He offers the kid a small smile. “How do you feel about coming home with me?” _

* * *

For once, Luke doesn’t feel anxious.

It’s funny, considering he’s been worried about Leia’s visit for  _ days.  _ Especially after Leia found out, from their parents, that Din was involved in some shady business—even though Luke told her  _ time and time again  _ that whatever Gideon did couldn’t be Din’s fault—she’s been even more suspicious, calling Luke randomly throughout the day and even asking to  _ facetime  _ at times.

And Luke couldn’t always use Grogu as an excuse to let the call go to voicemail.

A part of Luke was hopeful that Leia visiting might calm things down, especially once she saw how good of a person Din was and just how much he cared about Grogu, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t anxious. Still, here he is, ten minutes before Leia is supposed to arrive, and his hands aren’t even shaky.

Instead, he’s trying to calm Din down, who looks like he’s about to have a panic attack in front of the stove. Din’s hands grasp the edge of the counter, dangerously close to the stove, and staring at the soup blankly.

“Din,” Luke murmurs and wraps his fingers gently around Din’s hand. He pulls it away from the stove just enough so he won’t burn his hand, and then lets his thumb press against Din’s pulse point. “I talked to Leia about Grogu,” he reminds the man for what’s probably the tenth time that week.

“I know.” Din’s voice is almost too quiet for Like to hear.

“She knows his boundaries. She won’t push them, okay?” Din gulps, and it seems he can’t talk because he just nods. “And we both will be here with Grogu the entire time. You can take him up to his room whenever. We’re not forcing him.” Luke lets his fingers travel up Din’s arm and sit right below his sleeve. “It will be good for Grogu. I promise. I would never intentionally harm him.”

Din’s fingers loosen around the counter and finally, he turns to look at Luke. His eyes are troubled, brows furrowed, and sweat dots his forehead, yet when Luke squeezes his arm yet again, he relaxes slightly. “I know,” he repeats, and this time, Luke can tell he means it. That he trusts Luke. “I’m sorry for freaking out on you.”

“No worries.” Luke, somewhat unwillingly, drops Din’s hand once he’s sure Din won’t spiral again. He searches Din’s face. “I’ll go check up on Grogu, okay?” Din’s expression tightens for a moment, but then he nods. Luke can tell that his fingers are still shaky once they return to the spatula, but at least he seems to be in control. After offering Din a final smile, Luke leaves for Grogu’s bedroom.

In the last few days, after Din pretty much broke down in front of Luke and spilled the truth about Gideon, Din and Luke have been closer than ever. Din not only started to join their workout sessions again, he started coming home earlier and earlier, spending most of his nights with Luke and Grogu. Luke thinks it’s because Din is worried about Grogu—now that Gideon’s freedom is a real possibility, Din is hovering over his son even more.

Luke also realizes pretty quickly that Din isn’t good at dealing with that worry himself.

In the last few days, Luke had to pull Din from the verge of a panic attack several times. Whenever he saw Din’s muscles lock up and his eyes flutter close, he would go up to him and grab one of his hands—Luke figured out pretty quickly that touch grounds Din into reality. So Luke runs his fingers over Din’s palm, over the back of his hand, press them to his pulse point, run them over his arm until Din calms down, until his eyes flicker open and the darkness in them seeps away.

Din doesn’t seem to mind Luke’s touch, and yet he always pulls away when he’s fine. Every time, Luke aches to hold onto Din longer, to lock their fingers together, to feel the callouses on Din’s hands, the hair on his forearms, the strength of muscles…

He sighs, shaking away the thoughts. He tells himself again that Din probably only sees him as an employee, or maybe a tentative friend. As good as Din’s touch feels, and as much as Luke wants to lean into it, it isn’t fair to force Din into it if he doesn’t want it.

Luke stops in front of Grogu’s door and gently knocks before he pushes the door open. “Hey, kiddo,” he says, eyes finding Grogu sitting on his bed, his toy alphabet letters around him. “What are you up to?”

Grogu tilts his head to the side, eyes flickering to Luke briefly, before he picks up two letters from the pile. Luke comes up to read them. “TV?” He looks around to find the TV turned on, playing one of Grogu’s favorite cartoons. The color of the screen is dimmed so it doesn’t overstimulate Grogu, but still bright colors of the fairies jump out of the TV. Luke smiles and sits next to the kid, covering his thighs with Grogu’s weighted blanket.

“What are you watching?” he asks, gesturing at the letters. Grogu’s hands still around the blue A he’s playing with. He looks up at the TV, and then returns to the pile of letters. He carefully picks out four of them. BELL for Tinker Bell. Pride flickers in Luke’s chest.

“Good job, bud,” he murmurs, lifting his fist. Grogu softly touches his fist to Luke’s after a few seconds. “In time, you’ll even be able to write, you know?”

A smile tugs at the corners of Grogu’s lips. He grabs the blue A again, focusing back on his show. Luke lets him watch for a bit, just settling on the bed next to Grogu, before he starts. “Grogu, do you remember when I talked about my sister?” Grogu doesn’t say anything, but his head does tilt towards Luke. “Do you remember her name?” He managed to spell it a few days ago, and while a part of Luke doesn’t expect him to remember it at all, he isn’t at all surprised when Grogu reaches for L. He forgets the I before he plops the letters in front of Luke, but Luke just smiles. “Yeah. Leia. Well, kiddo, she’s coming to visit today.” He stops, eyes searching Grogu’s face.

Grogu doesn’t react at all.

“I’ve been talking to her about you, and she wants to meet you. Is that okay? Do you want to meet her?”

If Grogu says no, Luke will just let him stay in his room. But instead, Grogu reaches for an O and a K. He places them on Luke’s thigh, eyes briefly flickering to Luke’s face. One corner of Luke’s lips quirk up. He reaches up and gently runs his fingers through Grogu’s hair.

“I’m proud of you, kiddo.”

* * *

There isn’t a lot that can surprise Leia.

Her parents are Anakin and Padme Skywalker, notoriously famous politicians. She’s married to Han Solo, who has a bit of a shady past and maybe one too many friends in the underground. She’s been a congresswoman herself for a while now. Even if she’s surprised, she likes to think she’s able to put on a calm face.

When she enters Din’s premises, she’s pretty sure her lips stay parted all the way to Din’s mansion, and then a bit more afterwards. She knew that Din was rich—like, handing out Ferraris to employees rich—and yet her idea of rich is based on her parents, and she realizes only now that it is a very, very skewed perception.

The Skywalkers are rich. Din is a  _ billionaire. _

Still, she squares her shoulders, adjusts her suit that somehow feels too cheap even though it’s custom made, and rings the bell. It takes a while for Luke and Din to come to the door, but considering the size of the house, it’s still impressive that it took less than thirty seconds.

It’s funny, considering everything, that Leia’s first thought upon seeing Luke with Din and Grogu is that they look like a domestic family living in a New York apartment rather than a huge mansion in the middle of a private land. Luke, as always, is wearing a black t-shirt and sweatpants, and Din, instead of designer clothes, seems to be in a thrift-store flannel and faded jeans. Grogu is in Din’s arms, his tiny arms wrapped around his father’s shoulders, face buried into the crook of Din’s neck. Leia notices the green lightsaber in his hands, and a brow climbs to her forehead.

“Leia,” Luke breathes, taking her out of her thoughts. There’s a bright smile on his face. “Come in. You’re right on time, lunch is ready.”

Leia tentatively steps inside, somehow expecting a bomb to go off or a JARVIS-like AI to welcome her. Instead, Luke just closes and locks the door behind them, running a hand through his already messy hair. “Well, you already met Din,” he scrambles, stepping next to the man, close enough that their shoulders brush _.  _ Huh _.  _ “And this is Grogu, his son.” Luke’s eyes turn to the kid and something softens in his gaze. He lifts a hand to gently brush his fingers on Grogu’s arm, and then puts his hand on Din’s hand. Leia notices Din’s fingers twitch, as if trying to hold onto Luke’s hand once he removes it.

_ Huh. _

Leia puts a brilliant smile on her face. “Thank you for inviting me,” she tells Din but doesn’t lift her hand. Her eyes fall on Grogu. Luke made it clear, before she was invited, that Grogu didn’t like touching, didn’t like being stared at, and especially didn’t like when people crowded over him. She puts some distance between herself and Din as she leans in. “Hey, little guy,” she says softly. “Luke told me a lot about you, but it seems like he underestimated how adorable you are.”

Luke snorts. “I’m pretty sure I said he’s loads cuter than Ben.”

“Ben has Han’s genes; every kid is cuter than him,” Leia dismisses, turning her eyes to her brother instead of waiting for an answer from Grogu. Din’s shoulders visibly relax and Leia notices him slightly,  _ very  _ slightly lean into Luke. It seems Luke either has no idea or he’s so used to it that it’s second nature, because Luke just laughs at her words.

“Han is Leia’s husband, and Ben’s their child. I mentioned them to you before,” he explains quickly. “Ben is nice most of the time, but when the mood strikes him he can literally destroy an entire room to get his way.”

“Sounds…pleasant,” Din deadpans, brows arched. Leia chuckles at the absolute horror on Din’s face. And despite her reservations about Luke’s job, she finds herself relaxing. Looking at Din clutching his child tightly, staying absolutely still as to not bother Grogu, she can’t see him harming Luke in any way.

That belief is only strengthened during lunch. Din keeps Grogu on his lap, feeding him every now and then, and generally stays silent. Leia doesn’t know why she expected Luke to be reserved and quiet as well, even if Din is his boss, but he’s neither of those—in fact, he bickers with Leia as usual, filling every bit of silence, chattering with Leia, Din, and Grogu at the same time. His blue eyes brighten whenever he turns to the father-son duo, and he even sneaks some of his food to Grogu’s mouth. By some miracle, Luke even gets Grogu out of his shell by the end of lunch, enough that Grogu ends up sitting between his father and Luke, playing with his lightsaber over the table, instead of hiding in Din’s lap.

It’s clear how much Luke adores Grogu, and how much Grogu loves him back. What’s also blatantly obvious to Leia is just how much Luke and Din care about each other. She doesn’t doubt the two of them have no idea—not just because she knows her brother, and Luke would  _ die  _ before he confessed his feelings, but Leia gets the feeling that Din would not be the kind of person to force an employee into a relationship. Leia feels stupid, watching Din, that she ever thought Din would be taking advantage of Luke. Din might be a billionaire, but he’s also obviously a good person.

Once lunch is over, Luke walks her out. Leia lingers in the hall as Luke and Din take Grogu up to his room—Din was going to do it alone, but Grogu grabbed Luke’s sleeve and Luke just melted, following the father-son duo immediately—her eyes skimming over the photos on the walls. She stops at one of Din’s where he’s wearing what looks like a few pieces of armor and leaning against a motorcycle, a few people around him. She swipes her thumb over the name on the lower right corner.

“Din stayed with Grogu,” Luke says when he comes down, cheeks flushed. Leia offers him a small smile. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“It’s fine. I wanted to talk to you anyway.” Luke’s shoulders tighten briefly, his smile flickering off of his face. He opens his mouth, presumably to defend Din against whatever Leia is about to say, but she’s faster. “I was wrong about Din.”

Luke stops. “You…were?”

“He’s not the kind of guy to take advantage of you. Or anyone, really.” Leia’s voice is quiet so even if Din was coming downstairs, he wouldn’t be able to hear it. “He’s a good guy, Luke.”

Luke relaxes, a bright grin appearing on his face. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you,” he says, only slightly exasperated. Leia rolls his eyes. “Din’s a good boss. A good friend, really.”

“And something more?” Leia pokes. A flush immediately rises to Luke’s cheeks, highlighting his wide eyes and mussed hair. She chuckles. “You know it’s blatantly obvious you like him, right?”

_ “Leia,”  _ Luke whines. “That’s not… We’re just friends.” Leia arches a brow, and Luke flushes more. He absentmindedly starts playing with the sleeves of his t-shirt. “He doesn’t see me that way. I’m just his employee.”

“Somehow, I highly doubt that. Look,” Leia stops him when he begins to object. “I’m not saying jump into a relationship with him. He’s still your boss, and you need to be careful. But it seems like he makes you happy, and if that’s what you want… I don’t think he’d be too opposed to it.” She searches Luke’s face. Something akin to hope blooms in his eyes; he isn’t quick enough to hide it behind a blank face.

Leia gives Luke a tight hug before saying her goodbyes. She takes her phone out the moment she’s in her car and texts her father.

_ Hey, Dad. Random question. Have you ever heard the name Mandalorian? _


	11. lord, save me, my drug is my baby

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Mentions of pedophilia and child trafficking
> 
> so. i gotta say, i'm really, really excited for this chapter lmao. i've been planning this for a while, so... hope you enjoy this!
> 
> also, thank you to my beta, liz-ee, on Tumblr. she's amazing.
> 
> p.s. title is from Don't Blame Me by Taylor Swift

It isn’t often that Greef calls Din in the middle of the night to ask him to come to the police station. It’s even  _ rarer  _ that he’s secretive about what’s going on. So Din assumes the worst as he barges into the police station, helmet tucked under his arm.

He’s only slightly relieved when he sees that Greef doesn’t look angry or horrified, as he’d been expecting. Din notices that his outfit is a bit out of place—tie askew, jacket ruffled, badge hanging loosely from his belt instead of tucked safely in its place—but otherwise the man looks positively  _ giddy.  _ He pulls Din into one of the private rooms.

“Mando, you didn’t tell me you knew the  _ Mayor _ .”

Din’s mind completely blanks. “What?” he asks, trying to remember the name of the mayor.  _ Shit,  _ the Armorer would murder him for this if she could see him now. She spent  _ weeks  _ educating Din about the political scene once he took up the mantle of Mand’alor, and she’s been less than pleased that Din retained about one percent of all of that.

Even Din’s stupidity about the political scene isn’t enough to damper Greef’s mood. “Anakin Skywalker?” he explains, and Din goes numb. “He dropped by this morning and he gave me this.” Greef drops a file in front of Din and opens it up. The first thing Din sees is Gideon’s face, stapled in the upper right corner, and for a moment he forgets about  _ Mayor Skywalker  _ and clenches his fists.

Then, his eyes move to what the file  _ actually  _ is. It’s thick, so all Din can do is skim through it, but it’s clear what they are. Emails. Text messages. Shady bank transactions. Security footage. Photographs. Description of videos.

Everything that ties Gideon to a massive child trafficking ring, one Din had suspected the existence of for the last year but couldn’t find enough evidence to back up the claim. He knew Grogu couldn’t be the only one…

And the evidence is laid out in front of him now. Thanks to Luke’s  _ father,  _ who just happens to be the mayor.

He realizes then that Luke wasn’t kidding when he said he could solve this.

“We have everything we need to put Gideon and his entire network away for life,” Greef says, and Din understands now why he’s so giddy. “Mayor Skywalker gave us all of this. He said it’s a favor for a friend.” Greef grins. “I know Mandalorians are powerful and all, but  _ damn,  _ I thought you guys didn’t mess with politics.”

_ We don’t, _ Din wants to say, almost. The only ties Mandalorians have to the political scene in the US are those they can’t avoid—those they need in order to keep their privacy and secrecy. Outside of a few high level figures in the government, FBI, CIA, and the police, most people don’t even know just how far-reaching their network is. Even he, as the Mand’alor, the current leading figure of Mandalorians, didn’t know the mayor’s name until now.

The mayor, whose son works for Din as a  _ babysitter.  _ Din doesn’t know whether he should laugh or cry, but it seems like his eyes decide for him. He has to blink away his tears when he realizes what this file in front of him means.

Gideon will be put away. His network will be put away. Grogu won’t ever have to fear Gideon anymore,  _ Din  _ won’t have to fear Gideon taking Grogu away from him. They will be  _ free. _

“When?” he asks, voice hoarse with tears. Greef’s face softens.

“We’ll arrest him tomorrow for all the new charges. I’d be surprised if the judge even offers him bail.” Greef pats Din on the shoulder. “He’s going away for good, Mando. I promise.”

Din doesn’t stop his silent tears. He nods, closing the file with shaky hands. “Keep me updated,” is all he can say before Greef leaves the room, giving him some privacy.

He slips his helmet over his head before he leaves, too, tears still clinging to his cheeks.

* * *

By the time Din gets back home, it’s almost 11 p.m., and Grogu is already asleep. Luke would’ve been right there with the kid, considering he wakes up around six every morning, but all day he’s been too giddy to go to sleep.

Giddy to tell Din the update about Gideon.

Anakin called Luke a few hours earlier to tell him the good news. He and Padme didn’t want to say anything beforehand, just in case the case fell for some reason, but according to his parents, the police should have everything now to put away Gideon for good. Anakin didn’t give him any details, but Luke trusted his dad. He trusted that Anakin and Padme knew what they were doing.

And now, Luke can’t wait to share the news with Din.

He spent the entire night imagining Din’s face when he heard the news. Luke imagines he’d be frozen at first, maybe filled with disbelief, but then Luke would convince him that it’s real. He’d tell Din that his father came through, that Anakin and Padme are powerful political figures that have enough connections to build a case against Gideon, and slowly Din would come around to the idea that maybe Gideon won’t walk. He’d smile, maybe even laugh, and give Luke a tight hug, hands grasping Luke’s golden strands. Maybe then he’d lean forward to capture Luke’s lips—

Luke stops himself there. As much as Leia claims Din likes him back, as much as he thinks he’s been seeing hints of it that he can’t ignore, a kiss is most likely Luke’s wishful thinking. Sure, Din would be grateful for Luke’s hand in bringing Gideon down, but Luke doubts gratitude is the same as feelings.

Still, he jumps on the couch and rushes to the hallway when he hears Din’s car enter the garage. It takes effort not to shift from foot to foot, waiting for Din to come in. A smile spreads on his face when the door finally opens.

“Din,” he breathes, a grin spreading on his face. Another time, he would’ve noticed the tear tracks on Din’s face, or his ruffled clothing, or the helmet tucked under his arm. Instead, he grins widely. Din stops and looks up, eyes dark and troubled. Even  _ that  _ doesn’t put a damper on Luke’s mood. He steps forward, fidgeting with his fingers. “I have news. About Gideon.”

And Din, blowing away at least half of his expectations, doesn’t look curious or troubled. He doesn’t freeze, he doesn’t ask questions, he doesn’t even seem to be  _ breathing.  _ Instead, he puts his helmet to the side, closes the distance between him and Luke, and wraps the man into a tight hug. Luke’s hands inadvertently come up to hold Din’s shoulders.

“Oh,” he whispers, but then finds himself melting into the touch. His eyes flutter closed and his fingers curl around Din’s jacket. “You know, I kind of expected you to do that  _ after _ I told you the news.” Din laughs, a soft breathy sound, and Luke’s heart soars, hammering in his chest so loudly that he thinks Din must surely feel it, even through both their shirts. For once, he finds that he doesn’t care.

“I heard,” Din whispers, one hand moving up Luke’s back and brushing the ends of his hair. Luke shivers under the soft touch. “You never told me your dad was the mayor.”

_ Now  _ Luke has to pull back, only to look at Din’s face. He arches a brow. “You didn’t know the Mayor’s name?” Din shrugs, sheepish, and Luke isn’t even surprised. “Not even my mom? Senator Amidala-Skywalker?” Still, there’s no recognition in Din’s eyes. Luke sighs and rolls his eyes. “You’re lucky you’re pretty, Din, or else I might’ve lost all hope.”

Luke speaks the words without even thinking, and only realizes what he said when Din freezes under his touch. His first instinct is to immediately stammer out an excuse or an apology but Din is close,  _ so  _ close, and Luke can see the deep brown of his eyes, his messy stubble and mustache, the lines of his face and the circles under his eyes, and his mouth dries. He moves his hand from Din’s shoulder to the nape of his neck, his fingers brushing Din’s curls, and Din’s eyes flutter close.

Luke doesn’t think. He reaches up and presses his lips to Din’s, fingers digging into Din’s hair. Din’s arms tighten around him just slightly and he parts his lips, his tongue sliding over Luke’s. It only encourages Luke. He bites down on Din’s lip, running his short nails over Din’s scalp, and presses himself against Din, the zipper of Din’s leather jacket and the buttons of his flannel digging into Luke’s chest.

Din pulls back so unexpectedly that Luke stumbles forward, chasing Din’s lips, and he probably would’ve just fallen onto the floor if not for Din’s grip. “Luke, we can’t,” Din whispers, voice rough, and Luke’s eyes flutter open.

For a moment, Luke thinks Din didn’t like it. That he doesn’t feel the same way. But the moment his eyes meet Din’s, he knows. They’re darker now, filled with desire, and lower, below his hips, Luke feels a hardness pressing against his thighs. He knows Din wants it, too. Maybe just as much as he does.

“Why not?” Luke asks, breathless. He moves his hands to cup Din’s face. “I know you want this.” He rolls his hips, and a soft moan escapes Din’s lips. His eyes flutter shut and Luke can tell that it’s taking all his self-control to keep himself in place.

“You’re my employee,” he manages to choke out, hands tightening against Luke’s back. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to.”

Luke just stares for a few seconds before he takes advantage of Din’s closed eyes and steals another kiss from his lips. His thumbs brush over Din’s eyelids and he waits until Din opens his eyes. “Din, you’re not forcing me,” he murmurs. It’s a miracle he’s not a stuttering mess right now, considering he’s hot and needy all over, but something about the way Din’s looking at him gives him the courage. He grabs one of Din’s hands and shakily moves it down, to his crotch. Din’s pupils widen. “I want this, too,” he says quietly, pressing against Din’s hand. “Please?”

Luke glances at Din through his lashes, eyes wide and hopeful. The only answer Din offers is a curt nod, but that’s all Luke needs.

* * *

Despite his earlier confidence, Luke turns shy the moment Din pulls him into the bedroom.

All the way up there, Luke’s hands didn’t leave Din, either playing with his jacket, ruffling his hair, or moving  _ down there  _ to play with the button of his jeans. If Din had any restraint left about being with an employee, it was all thrown out the window with the way Luke’s hands explored him, and Din finds his cock hard and aching already by the time they’re in the bedroom.

Luke stares at the bed for a few seconds, and  _ that’s  _ when he pulls his hands back to himself, fidgeting with his fingers. “So, there’s something you should know before we do this,” he says, so quickly and quietly that Din barely hears it.

He stops himself before he leans into Luke. His cock twitches desperately in his pants, aching for Luke’s touch and  _ not  _ happy with the idea of even the smallest distance between them, but Din just clenches his fists. “Luke, if you don’t want to—” he starts, but before he gets far Luke stops him.

“It’s not that.” His blue eyes are wide, and Din doesn’t see even one sign of discomfort in them. Luke just looks… _ anxious.  _ “I’m just…not very experienced with all of this. That’s it.” He shrugs innocently, eyes focused on the floor. “I don’t know if that changes anything for you, but I thought you should know that.”

Din gently takes Luke’s hand in his and pulls him close, pressing a kiss to Luke’s lips. Luke melts into the touch, hands coming up to grab Din’s jacket, and Din for a moment can’t comprehend the amount of trust Luke is placing in him with this. Din is his boss, and for all that Luke knows, Din is the one that has the power here. And yet here Luke is, admitting his inexperience, opening up to Din without even an ounce of hesitation.

“Luke, are you sure?” Din asks, pulling back only slightly. Luke’s eyes are wide and trusting as he nods. Din searches his face, slowly moving his hands to cup Luke’s cheeks, and then rests his forehead against Luke’s. “Tell me to stop, and I will,” he promises, just in case Luke feels like he can’t. Luke’s soft laugh reverberates in him.

“Does sex always involve all these mushy feelings?”

Din just smiles.  _ If it’s with someone you like,  _ he thinks but doesn’t say it. Instead, he moves his hands down, tugging at Luke’s t-shirt and pulling it over Luke’s head. For a moment, he holds it in his hands, remembering the escort—remembering how desperate he was to blindfold the man so he wouldn’t have to see his gray eyes. Now Luke is looking up at him, the blue of his eyes bright and unmatched, and Din feels weak.

He knows he doesn’t need the t-shirt. He discards it and leans down to press a kiss on Luke’s lips, leading him to the bed. The backs of Luke’s knees hit the edge and Din hauls him up just in time, earning a small yelp as Luke’s fingers dig into his jacket. He gently places Luke at the center of the bed and offers him a smile.

He doesn’t say it, but Luke looks perfect, hair fanned out behind him, his chest sun-kissed, his muscles and abs strong. Din quickly gets rid of his jacket and leans down to kiss him, sucking on his lower lip, before he moves down to his chin, and then to his neck. Luke shifts under his touch, hands grasping his flannel. He lifts his hips briefly and his hard cock presses against Din’s thigh.

“Din,” he whines, tugging at his flannel. “ _ Please. _ ”

Din just smiles against his neck. “Not so fast,” he murmurs, breath hot against Luke’s neck. He presses a kiss on Luke’s pulse point and moves to his collarbone. “You trust me, right?”

Luke doesn’t even hesitate. “Yes, but—” Luke’s words are abruptly cut with a moan when Din moves his hand to Luke’s chest, his thumb brushing over Luke’s sensitive nipple. “ _ Din, _ ” Luke breathes, hips shifting again. Din is sure his blunt nails will leave marks on him even through the flannel.

The idea sends a shiver down his spine. His thumb swipes over Luke’s nipple again as he moves down, peppering Luke’s chest with kisses, before he stops right above the nipple. He smiles and dips down, lightly sucking on it.

Luke’s back arches and he moves his hand to Din’s hair, tugging at the ends. “Din,  _ please, _ ” he pleads, shifting his hips under Din’s. “Please, I need—”

“You need what?” Din moves down slowly, tracing Luke’s abs with his kisses, and Luke’s shifts become desperate. Only Din’s hand pressing against Luke’s stomach keeps him from pumping up.

“Please,” Luke whines again and Din can imagine him, flushed red with desire, unable to form the words. He lifts his head to look at Luke, splayed under him, his free hand grasping the blankets tightly. Luke’s pupils are blown so wide that it’s almost impossible to see the blue of his eyes.

“Tell me, Luke,” Din whispers, dipping his hand down enough to brush the edge of Luke’s jeans. He starts playing with the button, slowly unclasping it, and then moves to the zipper. Luke’s hips come up to meet his touch, but he stills his hand on the zipper. Instead, he plays with the hair right above the waistband of Luke’s jeans. Luke moans again, Din’s name on his lips.

“Use your words, love,” Din murmurs, grabbing the zipper. He slowly unzips it, careful not to touch Luke’s cock even over the underwear. His eyes find Luke’s wide, hazy gaze, and he knows he has Luke where he wants him.

“You,” Luke whispers, shifting again. “Din, please, I need you to touch me.” Luke stares up at him, eyes pleading. Din offers him a small smile and leans down, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. At the same time, he slides his hands under Luke’s underwear and wraps his fingers around the base of Luke’s cock.

Luke moans into the kiss, grasping Din’s shoulders tightly. Din steals another kiss from his lips as he moves his hand from Luke’s cock to hook it around the waistband of his underwear. Luke whines at the absence of the touch, hips shifting to follow Din’s fingers. Din smiles and tugs at his pants and underwear, slowly pulling them down his thighs. He lets his fingers ghost over Luke’s skin, close to the apex of his thighs but not quite there, and Luke can’t stop shifting.

“So needy,” Din murmurs, dipping his head down to press a kiss to Luke’s inner thigh, right under his cock. “So hard for me already.”

_ “Din _ ,” Luke murmurs, fingers bunching up the blanket under him. “Din,  _ please.” _

“Shh.” Din tugs at Luke’s pants and underwear one last time and pulls them off. He throws them to the floor and moves his hands to Luke’s legs, parting them as he moves up. He follows the light touches of his fingers with his lips, letting his warm breath ghost over Luke’s skin, and Luke’s moves become more desperate. Din feels it must take Luke all his self-control to not touch himself and the thought makes him shiver. He ignores the heat pooling at his crotch—tonight isn’t about him, it’s about  _ Luke— _ and instead moves his fingers up, right to the apex of Luke’s thighs. He keeps peppering kisses to Luke’s inner thighs as one of his hands grab Luke’s balls, lightly teasing them.

“You like it?” Din asks when Luke whines, head thrown back and back arched against the mattress. All Luke can muster is an incoherent mumble, but Din takes that as a yes. He presses one final kiss right under Luke’s cock, and then moves his lips to the base, letting his warm breath ghost over it for a few seconds. Luke’s cock twitches, smearing precum on his stomach. His fingers grasp the blanket again, desperately, until Din reaches out to grab one of them. He moves it to his hair, letting Luke’s fingers tangle in his.

“Din,” Luke whispers, unable to lift his head to even look down. “I’ll pull,” he complains weakly. Din just smiles.

“That’s the idea, love,” he whispers and then finally moves to kiss the base of Luke’s cock. Luke moans and, true to his words, tugs at his hair, nails digging into Din’s scalp. Din bites back a moan and instead keeps moving up Luke’s cock, lightly kissing him and swiping his tongue around every now and then, following his lips with his fingers. He smiles when he reaches the tip and swipes his tongue over it, collecting the precum. Luke’s back arches with a moan, fingers curling around Din’s hair again. Din lets his breath warm Luke’s cock for a few more seconds before he leans down and takes the tip into his mouth.

“Din,” Luke gasps, cock twitching under Din’s expert fingers. Din sucks lightly, swiping his tongue underneath Luke’s cock as he moves down, fingers at the base of Luke’s cock where his lips can’t reach. “Din, please, I’ll—” A moan cuts Luke’s words off. Din smiles, moving his lips up briefly before moving down again, licking and sucking, taking more of Luke in at each stroke. Luke’s cock twitches, precum leaking into Din’s mouth, but he just swipes it with his tongue. Luke moans when the tip of his cock hits the back of Din’s throat.

_ “Din _ ,” Luke whispers, his words almost unintelligible between his moans. He lifts his hips up in tandem with Din’s strokes, fingers pulling Din’s hair harshly, and Din is so hard against his own pants that he’s sure he must be leaking too. He closes his eyes and with his free hand, he reaches down and tugs at Luke’s balls, moving his lips up Luke’s cock before taking him in again, this time to the hilt. He knows Luke is close by the way his cock twitches in his mouth, the way Luke is grasping his hair, the way his breaths and moans are coming out in pants. Din sucks one final time and Luke comes, screaming Din’s name, his cum filling Din’s mouth.

By the time Din gently moves his head up, Luke is spent, fingers loose in Din’s hair, body limp against the blankets. Din smiles and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. He shuffles up and places a gentle kiss on Luke’s lips, which Luke barely returns, before settling onto the mattress next to Luke.

He just watches Luke, gently caressing his hair with his fingers, until Luke’s eyes flicker open. They’re still hazy with his climax, a smile playing on his lips and his flush highlighting the blue of his eyes, and Din thinks it must be the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen.

“You okay?” Din asks softly. A soft laugh escapes Luke’s lips. He shifts on the bed so he’s facing Din, and then leans in for a kiss. Din feels his eyes flutter close.

“I’m  _ perfect. _ ” Luke sounds slightly drunk and Din chuckles. He lets Luke tuck his head under his chin and presses a kiss on Luke’s hair, marveling at the soft strands. Luke’s fingers curl around his flannel, and then Din feels one of his hands move down. There’s a tug at his waistband, and Din reaches down to grab Luke’s wrist.

“Luke,” he murmurs, shifting so his hardness is less obvious, though he doubts Luke hasn’t noticed. Luke stops and looks up curiously.

“You don’t want this?” he asks, and God Din is not strong enough to say no. He gulps, keeping a firm grasp on Luke’s wrist because that’s the only thing grounding him in reality right now.

“You don’t have to.” He leans forward to press his forehead against Luke’s. “It’s okay. I’m happy.” And it’s the truth. Luke looks beyond satisfied, curled up to his chest like that, and that’s all Din can ask for. He holds his breath, waiting for Luke’s answer, and he’s only slightly disappointed when Luke moves his hand away from his crotch.

He’s completely caught off guard when Luke pushes him so he’s on his back, and then straddles him. Suddenly Luke’s lips are on his, his hands cupping Din’s cheeks, and Din forgets every bit of objection he had.

“Din,” Luke whispers against his lips, fingers tracing Din’s cheek. “I want to fuck you.” Luke’s eyes flicker open, mischievous and dark, and Din’s pants feel almost painfully tight.

It takes a lot to whisper a response. “Are you sure?” Din asks, hands moving to grab Luke’s thighs. Luke just smirks and, instead of answering, he starts unbuttoning Din’s flannel, shifting down to give himself more space.

“There’s lube in the bedside table,” he murmurs, and all Din can do is oblige. He doesn’t even want to ask when or how Luke got it.

Luke makes quick work of Din’s flannel, helping him up so he can pull it off and throw it to the side. He then dips down, fingers splayed against the waistband of Din’s jeans, and Din has a feeling this is Luke’s idea for payback for teasing him so much because Luke moves achingly slow. He unbuttons and unzips Din’s pants, tugging them down to free Din’s aching cock, and smiles when he sees precum glistening at the tip. He looks up at Din through his lashes.

“Don’t move,” he orders, pulling the underwear and jeans down. Din, voice lost, can only nod. Luke looks pleased. He focuses back on Din’s pants, tugging them down, his fingers barely brushing Din’s skin. The blanket bunches up under Din’s fingers as he forces himself to keep still, to keep his hands away from his aching cock and keep his hips from shifting in search for some friction.

After what feels like forever, Luke tugs his pants and underwear off and then climbs onto the bed. He reaches for Din’s hand to grab the lube and spreads it generously on his hand, cheeks flushed and eyes wide. He parts Din’s legs and settles in between them, hand moving to Din’s thigh. Din shivers under the cold touch.

“Tell me if I do something wrong,” Luke murmurs, moving his hand up until he reaches Din’s hips, and presses one finger against Din’s hole. An inadvertent moan escapes Din’s lips. He throws his head back, arching his back to give Luke easier access. Luke presses again, enjoying how Din is writhing under even the smallest touch, before he slips a finger in. Din’s hips shift to meet Luke’s touch, and Luke grins.

“You’re tight,” he whispers, pressing his free hand on Din’s hip to steady himself as he moves his finger inside, bending his knuckle slightly. Din’s back arches against the mattress when Luke’s fingers brush the sensitive spot, and a moan leaves his lips. Luke’s finger stills for a moment, but then he moves it again, pressing against the same spot.

_ “Luke,”  _ Din chokes out, desperately chasing Luke’s fingers. Luke moves it out slightly before he slides another finger in, digging them deeper, and Din is sure he sees stars. “Luke,  _ love, please—”  _ Din whines, words coming out in short breaths. His eyes are closed, but he’s pretty sure he feels Luke smiles. He adds a third finger, crossing them inside, and then finds the same spot. Din loses all coherence. He moves a hand to grasp Luke’s shoulder, fingers digging into the soft skin roughly. “Please,” he moans again, hips moving in tandem with Luke’s fingers, but he needs more, he  _ aches  _ for more.

Luke’s fingers still, and Din whines with need. “Please what?” he asks, words husky but still playful, and Din’s eyes snap open. He finds Luke’s blue eyes on him, waiting for an answer. Din gulps, shivering with pleasure.

“Please,” he whispers again, his hand tightening on Luke’s shoulder. “Fuck me.” Luke smiles, pleased. He moves his fingers out and Din whines at the sudden emptiness, pressing his hips down as if he can chase Luke’s touch. Luke presses a hand on his hips again and moves up just to press a kiss to his lips.

“So needy,” Luke says, repeating Din’s words from earlier. He sits up, pouring lube on his hand and rubbing it over his cock, which is already hard again. He shifts forward, angling himself, and presses his tip against Din’s hole. He slides in so achingly slow that Din has to wrap his legs around Luke’s hips, tugging him down. Luke laughs and rolls his lips, clearly enjoying the way Din is writhing underneath him with need. He reaches up, swipes his fingers over the sweat that dots Din’s forehead, and presses another kiss to his lips.

“You’re so good for me, Din,” he murmurs, rolling his hips again, earning another moan from Din. Luke pulls back almost to the tip before he moves back in, a bit faster this time, and Din reaches up to grasp Luke’s shoulders. He knows even his blunt nails will leave marks.

Luke pulls back again, and this time, when he slams back in, he isn’t slow. A choked moan escapes Din when Luke’s cock hits the sweet spot and his eyes roll back, heels digging into Luke’s back. Luke finds a rhythm, at first slow and steady, but then he starts moving faster, his breaths coming out in tandem with his thrusts. His hand finds Din’s neglected cock, and after that, Din knows he’s gone.

It takes only a few pumps of Luke’s hand before Din comes, cum spilling over his stomach. Luke comes not much later, his strokes desperate and quick now, and only stills when he’s spent. He presses his cheek on Din’s chest, careful to avoid Din’s oversensitive cock, and lies there, completely limp.

Din blinks through the haziness of his climax and moves his hand up to cup Luke’s cheek. A content hum escapes Luke’s lips as he cuddles Din more, eyes closed, lashes spread on his cheekbones. Din knows they have to clean up soon, but he feels like he can watch Luke like this forever.

He presses a kiss on Luke’s forehead. “That was perfect,” he murmurs, and a smile pulls Luke’s lips. Luke finally lifts his head to look at Din.

“It was my first time,” he admits sheepishly, and somehow Din has a hard time believing that. Luke laughs at the surprise that must be visible on his face. “Is this where I’m supposed to go and grab something to clean us up?” Despite his words, Luke doesn’t even try to move. Din hums and kisses Luke’s hair again.

“It’s okay. I got you.” Luke arches a brow.

“Can you even walk?” Din’s eyes flicker to Luke, and as much as he wants to say yes, he isn’t sure. His legs feel like jelly and he doubts he’ll even make it off the bed without collapsing. Luke laughs and slowly lifts himself off of Din. He steals a soft kiss from Din’s lips. “Let me take care of you, okay?”

All Din can do is nod. He watches Luke wobble his way to the bathroom before he closes his eyes, his body limp against the mattress.

He barely feels the bed dip under Luke’s weight once he comes back. Luke gently cleans up his stomach and back, peppering kisses on his chest every now and then, and Din melts under his touch. He doesn’t even have the strength in him to open his eyes by the time Luke is done.

He turns his head to the other side of the bed, where he thinks Luke is. “I can leave if you want me to,” he murmurs, even though he doubts he’ll wake up enough to move at all. Luke just scoffs and his calloused fingers smooth Din’s hair.

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re staying.” He presses one final kiss to Din’s forehead before he lies down, too, head on Din’s chest, arm thrown over Din’s stomach. Din basks in the warmth of Luke’s embrace.

It doesn’t take him long to fall asleep.


	12. so many things that i wish you knew

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so. this chapter. this FUCKING chapter. was a fucking emotional rollercoaster to write. it started so GOOD. (you know. with smut. because now that these bitches are together you bet i'll be writing that). and then. hhhhh. anyway. i suggest you grab tissues because BY GOD this gets bad.
> 
> as always, thank you to my beta, liz-ee. she's the best. and a special thank you to people who read over the million snippets i sent them and let me bounce ideas with them. you know who you are. 
> 
> p.s. title is from The Story of Us by Taylor Swift.

For the first time in a long time, Luke feels truly well-rested in the morning.

Sunlight bathes his room in a faint yellow glow, coming in through the blinds Luke forgot to close the previous night. Luke slowly starts to become aware of his surroundings, the soft mattress under him, the blanket that he somehow kicked off so much that it only covers his feet, and the warm embrace that surrounds him. Memories of the previous night fill Luke’s mind and he finds himself melting in the embrace, moving his arm almost absentmindedly to wrap around Din.

He feels like he could stay there forever.

He blinks his eyes open lazily, cuddling even closer to Din’s chest, and lifts his head only slightly so he can look at Din’s face. Din’s still asleep, sunlight illuminating his long lashes and messy stubble, and he looks completely relaxed, a small smile on his face. Luke finds himself reaching out, running his fingers lightly over Din’s cheek. His stubble bites into his fingertips and a smile spreads on Luke’s face.

His hand is just about to move down when a buzzing distracts him. His phone. He groans, eyes falling onto the bedside table, and wonders briefly whether he can ignore whoever it is.

That’s thrown out the window when his eyes catch who it actually is. And Anakin doesn’t take well to people letting him go to voicemail. Luke gently unwraps himself from Din’s arms, pulling the blanket around his shoulders at the sudden absence of Din’s warmth, and grabs his phone. He spares Din one last glance—he looks almost angelic, sprawled on the white sheets—before ducking into the bathroom. He glares at the phone for a few more seconds and makes a face before answering. 

“Dad, this better be important,” he snaps, one hand holding the blanket, and leans against the wall. Anakin chuckles and Luke realizes, at least, that whatever it is, it’s not bad news.

“Is that any way to answer your father’s call?”

“It’s  _ six thirty  _ in the morning.” Luke bites down on his lip.  _ And you made me leave the arms of the man I love. _

“I thought you woke up early.”

“That’s not—” Luke sighs. There is no arguing with Anakin, especially when he sounds so amused at potentially waking up Luke. He rubs his forehead. “So,  _ Dad,  _ why are you calling me?” he asks, hoping there isn’t too much bite in his voice. Anakin doesn’t seem to mind anyway. Luke can hear the smile in his voice.

“You didn’t see the news?” Luke arches a brow and  _ once again  _ tries not to remind his father that he  _ just woke up.  _ Anakin sighs, and then Luke’s phone buzzes. “Check your messages.”

Luke puts his phone down, adjusting the blanket around him, and clicks on the link his father had sent. He comes to a complete stop when he reads the headline. “Gideon’s charged with life in prison?” he murmurs, more to himself than anything, but it seems Anakin’s heard because his laugh rings through the phone. Luke puts him on speaker as he skims the article.

“With the evidence we gave the police, I’m not surprised.” Despite how happy Anakin sounds, Luke can hear the slight anger behind his voice. Anakin had always hated corrupt people, whether in politics or business, and Luke is not surprised he’s positively giddy about bringing a notorious criminal to justice. “I wanted to tell you, so you can go to  _ your boss  _ and tell him that Gideon won’t see the light of day ever again.”

Luke bites down on his lip. He still remembers Din, curled up in a ball in front of him, terrified that the man who terrorized his son would go free. Now, Din won’t ever have to fear Gideon again.

“Dad,” Luke says, voice choked up with tears. “Thank you. So much. This means…” He can’t even properly find the words to explain it, but it seems like Anakin understands. His voice is softer.

“I should be thanking you.” Luke almost wants to laugh. What would Anakin have to thank  _ him  _ for after what he did? “I know you were only trying to help a friend, but you got Gideon off the streets. Without you, Padme and I would’ve never looked into him.” Luke’s grip on the phone tightens and he drops his head back onto the wall.

“I guess that’s true,” he says with a shrug. Anakin snorts.

“That  _ is  _ true.” Anakin falls silent briefly, and Luke can almost see him, in his office, fingers drumming on the desk, eyes unfocused. Anakin always falls silent when he’s thinking. “Luke, I just want you to know… I’m proud of you.” His father’s voice is so genuine that Luke feels a knot clog his throat. He can’t find anything to say, but Anakin continues anyway. “I know I don’t say that a lot and I should. And don’t tell me you know we’re always here for you. Hearing it is different. Especially because I know the last few years haven’t been the easiest for you. And I just… I can’t help thinking it’s my fault.”

“Dad, you didn’t do anything,” Luke says softly. He puts the phone down on the sink and absentmindedly plays with the edge of his blanket. He pushes the memories of the past back. He doesn’t want to drag them up, especially on a happy morning like this one. “What happened wasn’t your fault.”

“I just keep thinking if I had noticed before—”

“Dad,” Luke stops him, taking back the phone so Anakin can hear him better. “It’s in the past. It’s neither of our faults. And…” His eyes flicker to the door and he thinks about Din, on the bed, thinks about the night before, and a smile pulls his lips. “And I’m happy now. With my job. With my boss. So no hard feelings, okay?”

Anakin is silent for a moment, but then he sighs. “No hard feelings,” he repeats. Luke takes him off speaker and presses the phone back to his ear. “Anyway,” Anakin says, clearing his throat. Luke smiles at the awkwardness. Anakin is not good at being emotional for longer than five minutes at a time. “I just wanted to give you the good news myself.”

“Thank you, Dad.” And Luke is surprised to find that he really means it, despite Anakin taking him away from Din. A smile flickers to his lips when he imagines how happy Din will be when he hears it, too. He has to adjust himself when he feels his cock press against the blanket. “I gotta go now, but… I love you.”

“Love you, too, son.” Anakin stays on the call for a few more seconds before he hangs up. Luke drops the phone and puts it above the sink, well away from the bedroom so it can’t distract him again, and makes his way to the bedroom.

Din hasn’t moved at all since Luke left the bed. Luke stands in front of the bedroom door for a moment, watching Din, appreciating the strong shoulders, the toned chest, the muscular legs, and… A flush rises to Luke’s cheeks. Din is  _ hard,  _ his cock jutting out from the blankets that are half wrapped around his legs. Heat pools in Luke’s crotch and for a moment he’s frozen, afraid to join Din back in the bed.

Then he remembers last night and he feels stupid. He doesn’t feel sore at all, most likely because he was the one that fucked Din, and he remembers just how much Din loved it, almost turning to putty in his hands. Luke can still picture Din under him, brown eyes rolled back, lips parted in pleasure, hips rising to meet Luke’s thrusts. Luke lifts one hand to his shoulder and feels the light nail marks there, and suddenly any kind of reservation Luke might’ve had dies.

He lets the blanket drop to the floor and makes his way to the bed, climbing in next to Din. Cupping Din’s cheek he leans down and presses his lips to his forehead, and then moves down, peppering light kisses on Din’s eyelids, on his cheekbone, smiling when he feels Din’s stubble and mustache biting into his lips. He moves to Din’s lips, capturing them in a soft kiss, running his tongue over Din’s lower lip before he moves down. He places his hand on Din’s chest, fingers playing with the light hairs, his lips following their path.

Din starts shifting underneath him when Luke reaches his nipple and runs the pad of his thumb over it. Din’s back arches, absentmindedly chasing his touch, and Luke’s gaze flickers up to see if Din is awake.

He finds Din’s sleepy brown eyes staring down at him. A smile pulls at his lips. “Hey,” he murmurs, letting his breath ghost over Din’s nipple, and a soft moan escapes Din’s lips. It’s clear Din still hasn’t managed to wake up completely and Luke uses that opportunity to take his nipple in his mouth, swiping his tongue over it before he gently nips at it.

This time, Din’s moan is louder and his hands come up, holding onto Luke’s shoulders. His grip is strong and the corners of Luke’s lips curl into a smile. He nips at the nipple again before moving down, tracing Din’s abs with his fingers, pressing kisses to the lines around them.

“Luke,” Din moans, nails lightly biting into Luke’s shoulder. Din’s breaths are coming out in pants and Luke takes pleasure in being able to break Din with just the littlest of his touches. He moves one of his hands up Din’s side and finds his nipple again, twisting it lightly between his fingers. Din’s nails dig further into his shoulder. “Love—” Din gasps and a shiver runs down Luke’s spine. He stops at the nickname, looking up at Din, and finds him hazily watching Luke. Din’s cheeks are dusted pink and his eyes are dark, but somehow he manages to hold Luke in place. “Are you sure?”

Luke wants to facepalm. He arches a brow, lightly playing with Din’s nipple still. “Do I look like I’m  _ not  _ sure?” he asks, and all Din can answer with is a moan. He shifts under Luke, his cock briefly brushing Luke’s thighs, and Luke feels precum smear on his skin.

“I just…” Din pants, clearly struggling in putting the words together. Luke twists his nipples again and he moans, back arching into Luke’s hand. “ _ Fuck,  _ I can’t think if you keep doing that.”

“Isn’t that exactly the point?” Luke grins, moving up so he can replace his fingers with his lips. One of Din’s hands comes up and digs into his hair, lightly tugging at the strands.

“Are you…okay?” Din asks, voice raspy. “After last night?”  _ That  _ stops Luke, at least briefly, and he lifts himself up Din’s chest to look at his face. Din’s eyes are dark with need, but they still search Luke’s face, and Luke realizes that if he tells Din right now that he wants to stop, Din won’t mind. He’s hard against Luke’s thighs, his cock already seeping with precum, and yet he’ll let Luke climb off of him if this isn’t what Luke wants.

Luke leans down to press a soft kiss on Din’s lips. “I told you,” he says, running his fingers down Din’s stubble. “I’m perfect.” He moves his lips to Din’s chin. “I just got some good news this morning,” he continues down Din’s chin, down his collarbone, and stops at his nipple again. He smiles. “And I wanted to celebrate with you.”

“Good…news?” Din asks, clearly struggling to grasp Luke’s words. His hand finds his way back to Luke’s hair and his blunt nails drag on Luke’s scalp, sending a shiver down his spine. Luke nips at Din’s nipple one last time before he moves down.

“Uh huh,” he murmurs, tracing Din’s abs with his fingers. His fingers lightly play with the hair leading to Din’s cock and stops right above it. He stills his hand and looks up, earning a whine from Din. He tries to shift underneath Luke, chasing some friction, but a light touch to his hips stops him. “Not too fast. I didn’t even tell you the news,” Luke says, letting his breath ghost over Din’s cock. It twitches, smearing precum on Din’s stomach, and Luke just delights at the sight. He briefly thinks about taking it in his mouth already but instead he moves down to Din’s thigh and presses a kiss right underneath Din’s cock. Din’s fingers tighten in his hair and he tugs again.

“Please, love,” he begs, trying to pull him up. Luke digs his knees into the mattress and moves down instead, peppering Din’s inner thighs with his kisses, parting them with his fingers. Din moans again, wriggling under Luke’s touches, his free hand clenching around the blanket tightly. Luke is sure he must want to touch his cock and smiles when he realizes Din is stopping himself on his accord.

“I got a call this morning,” Luke continues, fingers moving up Din’s thighs. He follows them with his lips. “A very good one.” He stops again, right at the apex of Din’s thighs, and looks up. Din’s eyes are on him, hazy with need. He lifts his hips up the mattress to chase Luke’s lips, which are right out of his reach. Luke moves one hand to Din’s hips, right next to his cock. “You know what I heard?”

_ “Luke, _ ” Din whines, arching his back again. Luke presses down on his hips to keep him in place. “Please.” Din’s head falls back, chest rising and falling quickly, and Luke feels his own cock twitch. He lets his warm breath ghost over Din’s cock, enjoying the way Din is writhing under him.

“I heard that Gideon’s been charged with life in prison,” he murmurs, and Din stills. He looks up, eyes blown wide, fingers loose in Luke’s hair. Without even giving him a chance to process the news, Luke moves down and licks the tip of Din’s cock, collecting the precum. Din’s head falls back with a moan and he tugs at Luke’s hair, hard enough to pull. A smile pulls at Luke’s lips.

“You like it?” he murmurs, pressing light kisses on Din’s cock, moving down. Din’s only answer is another tug at Luke’s hair. Din tries to move his hips down but with one hand, Luke presses down.

“Luke,” Din whines, trying to move, but Luke digs his nails into Din’s stomach. That earns him another moan. “ _ Fuck, please—”  _ Din chokes out, trembling with the effort to not move, and for a moment Luke can only watch. Din’s head has fallen back onto the pillow, his free hand is clasping the blankets underneath him, his chest rising and falling quickly. Luke lightly moves his hand down to Din’s thighs, feeling them clench underneath, and tugs at them to spread them apart even more. A shiver runs down Din’s spine and his fingers tighten around Luke’s hair, desperately pulling him down, and a pleasant smile spreads on Luke’s face. Din, who is usually so strong, so in control, is falling apart under him from Luke’s smallest touch, and Luke feels pride flicker in his chest.

He moves his hand up Din’s thigh, wraps his fingers around the base of his cock, and slowly takes him in. Din chokes out a muffled cry, face pressed against the pillow, and his hips lift up to meet Luke’s touch. Luke smiles, sucking on Din’s cock lightly, moving his lips up and down. His fingers follow where his mouth can’t reach, and he twists his wrist slightly, earning another moan.

“You’re so good for me,” Luke murmurs and Din’s cock twitches in his mouth when his warm breath washes over it. He uses the opportunity to swipe his tongue around it, taking him in even more, until the tip of Din’s cock hits the back of his throat. He moves his hand over Din’s hip, pressing down to keep him from pumping, and then sucks lightly.

“Luke,” Din pants, fingers tightening around Luke’s hair. He’s pulling at the strands harshly, and Luke realizes suddenly that he understands why Din wanted him to do it last night. The tug at his scalp, the slight ache that shoots down his spine every now and then, it’s making him feel even hotter. He wraps his fingers around the base of Din’s cock and pumps, sucking lightly, and Din is gone. He cries out Luke’s name, hips pumping as he chases his climax.

Luke gently lets go of Din’s cock and sits up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Din looks completely limp, both arms fallen to his sides. Luke moves up, careful not to touch Din’s oversensitive cock, and presses a gentle kiss on his lips.

He’s completely unprepared when Din’s arm snakes around him and Din returns the kiss. His eyes flicker open, warm brown meeting Luke’s blue, and he smiles. “You know,” he murmurs, and Luke realizes his voice is still husky, “I wouldn’t mind waking up like that every day.” A smile spreads on Luke’s face.

“Yeah?” Din’s hand comes up to brush Luke’s damp hair away from his forehead. He presses a kiss between his brows, then the tip of his nose, and Luke finds himself laughing. Din mirrors his smile when he finally reaches his lips, his tongue sliding into Luke’s mouth when he opens up. Din’s arm tightens around him, enough that their chests are completely flush, and Luke’s eyes flicker closed.

Maybe he expects Din to be more tired than he actually is. Maybe he’s too lost in the kiss. Maybe he doesn’t really expect Din to do anything more. But Luke doesn’t expect it when Din flips him over his back, earning a small yelp from Luke, and pins Luke’s wrists above his head with just one hand. Luke opens his eyes to find Din looking down at him, eyes a darker shade of brown, and his free hand traces a line down Luke’s chest. His fingers dip down, ghosting over Luke’s hips, and Luke finds himself shifting in an attempt to chase Din’s touch.

“Din,” Luke whines, looking up at him widely. A smile spreads on Din’s face and his eyes meet Luke’s. Luke shifts again, trying to hook his leg around Din’s, but Din easily swats him away.  _ “Din _ .”

“I don’t think so,” Din murmurs, dipping his head down to shut Luke up with a kiss. He moves to Luke’s chin, nipping it lightly, and Luke shifts again. Din’s free hand comes up to his chest and presses down. “I didn’t say you could move.”

Luke aches to arch his back, to chase Din’s touch, but he forces himself to stay still. Din’s tone bears no argument and somehow, Luke finds himself growing even harder at the thought of Din tying his hands to the bed frame, his hands ghosting over Luke’s skin as he makes Luke beg for his touch, holding down his hips so Luke can’t move and chase his own pleasure. He moans when Din places himself between his legs, parting his thighs with his knees, his touch still too far from where Luke wants him.

“Din,” Luke whispers, a flush rising to his cheeks. Din’s free hand stills on Luke’s chest and he looks up. His eyes immediately turn warm and soft.

“I can stop,” he says, and Luke almost rolls his eyes. He bites down on his lip and shakes his head. 

“No, I…” He has to look away and shifts uncomfortably under Din. He speaks the next words quickly before he loses his courage. “You can tie my hands if you want to.” Luke glances at Din through his lashes, trying to gauge his reaction, but Din’s face stays blank for a few seconds. Luke curses inside and is just about to take his words back when Din moves. He squeezes Luke’s wrists as his free hand grabs the pillow next to him. Luke watches as he removes the pillowcase using his teeth and wraps the soft fabric around Luke’s wrists, tying them to the bed frame.

“That okay?” he asks, voice soft. Luke lets out a shaky breath and nods. Din searches his face, as if looking for any hint of discomfort. He dips down to place a gentle kiss on Luke’s lips. “If you’re uncomfortable, tell me to stop, and I will,” he promises, one hand cupping Luke’s cheek. Luke offers him a smile.

“I know,” he says, and he means it, too. He sees it in Din’s eyes. “I trust you.” Din’s face softens. He kisses Luke again, his hands on Luke’s cheeks. The touch is too soft, almost, and Luke finds himself rolling his hips up, his cock brushing Din’s thighs.

Din stills and lifts his head. His eyes are darker again and Luke feels heat pool down to his crotch. He rolls his hips up again, chasing the friction of Din’s thighs, and blinks innocently.

It doesn’t take Din long to understand what he’s doing. His pupils grow and his mouth twists into a smirk. “So that’s how you want to play it,” he murmurs, fingers moving down Luke’s cheek to his shoulder. Luke blinks, feigning innocence.

“I don’t know what you mean.” Din arches a brow and when Luke tries to lift his hips again, Din’s hand moves down and he presses, keeping Luke in place. It’s impossible to move under his strong grip.

“I think you do,” Din murmurs, dipping his head. His breath ghosts over Luke’s pulse point and Luke shivers. His head falls back to expose his throat and Din kisses it, lips moving to his collarbone. “I think you just want to be punished,” Din continues. His grip is still strong around Luke’s hips, or else Luke would’ve definitely arched his back at the claim. Din stops right under Luke’s collarbone and sucks, earning a moan from Luke.

“Din,” Luke whines, tugging at the ties around his wrists as if it’ll help him. “Please.”

“Please what?” Din asks, moving down. His thumb brushes Luke’s hipbone, grip still strong, and Luke has to bite back a moan. He aches to shift, aches to move and chase any sort of friction, but he can’t.

“Please,” he whispers, eyes shut tight. “I need— _ Fuck,”  _ Luke gasps when Din’s breath ghosts over his nipple. A smile spreads on Din’s lips and he sucks, lightly, his free hand pressing down on Luke’s chest to keep him from arching his back. The hand around Luke’s hipbone moves down and he digs his nails into Luke’s ass, earning another moan.

“You need what?” Din asks, lifting his head to look at Luke. His fingers trace up Luke’s chest and find his chin, gently turning his head. “Look at me.” Luke’s eyes flicker open, meeting Din’s dark brown eyes, and Din grins. “Don’t look away, love,” he orders, fingers softly caressing Luke’s hair. Luke’s cock twitches and he finds himself nodding, desperate to give Din whatever he wants to get him where Luke needs to be.

Din leans down again and captures Luke’s nipple between his teeth. Luke moans, fingers digging into his palms, and it’s an effort not to roll his head back. Din’s free hand finds its way down Luke’s side and his thumb brushes over the other nipple.

“You’re so ready for me, aren’t you?” Din whispers, letting his warm breath wash over Luke’s skin as he moves down. He squeezes Luke’s ass again and moves his other hand down to Luke’s inner thigh, his fingers ghosting right under Luke’s cock before they move further away. Luke whines at the almost contact and locks every muscle so he doesn’t chase Din’s touch. “Answer with your words, love,” Din says, and Luke whines again when he stops.

“Yes,” he chokes out, eyes firmly focused on Din. “Yes, I am, Din,  _ please. _ ” He tries to roll his hips up, but Din’s hand stills his movement. His neglected cock twitches desperately. “Din,” he whines again, but Din doesn’t move, eyes on Luke’s face, keeping Luke completely still with his hands.  _ “Din, please,”  _ Luke pleads, and a smile spreads on Din’s face. He finally dips his head and peppers Luke’s abs with kisses.

“That’s better,” he murmurs, moving down. His lips trace the hair above Luke’s hips, but instead of following them, he moves to the side, pressing a kiss right at the corner of Luke’s thigh. Luke shivers with need, his desperate cock smearing precum all over his stomach. “Tell me, Luke,” Din whispers, moving his lips down Luke’s inner thigh, parting his legs even more in the process. Luke digs his heels into the mattress to keep himself from moving. “Tell me what you want me to do.” Luke blinks, eyes following Din, and realizes Din is serious.

“You want me to…” he whispers, voice breathy, and has to stop when Din nips at his inner thigh. It’s impossible to think with Din’s hands all over his thighs. “ _ Fuck,  _ Din, I can’t—”

“You can,” Din cuts his words off lightly. His fingers move up Luke’s thighs and stop right at the apex. Luke moans, shifting under Din’s touch, and for once he’s glad Din doesn’t complain. Din slowly starts moving his lips up. “I need to know where you want me, love.”

Luke blinks furiously, digging his nails into his palms in a desperate attempt to form a coherent thought. “I want you to touch me,” he whispers, and Din hums, pleased. His lips suck lightly and Luke moans, head thrown back. He tugs at the ties around his wrists.

“Continue,” Din murmurs, lips moving up Luke’s thigh. “And make sure it’s detailed.” Luke has to clench his muscles and try to focus on something other than Din’s torturous touches on his thighs. He’s sure he’s flushed from head to toe when he finally continues. “I want you to kiss me,” he says, voice hoarse and breathless. “Kiss me…down there. Move your lips up as you—as you lick— _ fuck, Din.”  _ Luke stops when Din’s breath ghosts over his cock. Luke’s hips arch inadvertently to chase his touch.

“Like this?” Din asks, finally— _ finally— _ kissing the base of Luke’s cock. Luke sucks in a sharp breath and lifts his hips, desperately searching for more friction. Din slowly licks, his lips moving up Luke’s cock. “What else?” he murmurs, and Luke’s cock twitches desperately under Din’s warm breath.

It’s a miracle Luke can even  _ talk. _

“Din, I want— _ fuck, please,”  _ Luke pants, pulling at the ties harshly, writhing under Din’s light touches. If it wasn’t for Din’s hands holding his thighs down, he would be pumping already. “Suck me. Please.  _ I need you, Din _ .” Luke looks up, eyes meeting Din’s dark brown ones, and Din smirks. His fingers move up Luke’s thigh and wrap around the base of Luke’s cock.

“As you wish,” Din whispers, and moves his lips to the tip. He licks the precum before taking Luke in, wet lips moving down Luke’s cock. Luke loses all coherence, head falling back, and pumps to meet Din’s moves around his cock. Din smiles around it, tongue swiping the length of his cock, and the third time he moves his lips down, Din takes him to the hilt.

“Fuck,” Luke gasps and shuts his eyes. “Fuck, Din, I’m  _ close—”  _ A muffled cry cuts his words off when Din’s expert fingers find his balls, lightly pulling at them.  _ “Din _ ,” Luke moans, repeating the name over and over again, and when Din sucks again it pushes Luke over the edge. He comes, pumping his hips up jerkily, back arched against the mattress.

He falls limp onto the mattress once he’s spent. Din lifts himself up and Luke feels his fingers on his cheek. Din kisses him gently, moving one hand up Luke’s arm, and quickly takes off the tie.

“Din,” Luke whispers, blindly reaching for him. Din’s fingers wrap around his hands and he pulls him close, pressing light kisses on Luke’s knuckles.

“I’m here,” he murmurs, tucking Luke under his chin. Luke happily follows, face pressed against Din’s shoulder. Din’s arms wrap around him and Luke sighs, completely content. Din rubs absentminded circles on Luke’s back. “I didn’t hurt you, right?”

_ “Din, _ ” Luke whispers, fingers tightening on Din’s arms. He pulls back just enough to look at Din’s face. “You should stop worrying about that. I’m not gonna break.” He gently pushes Din’s short curls behind his ear and reaches up to press a kiss on Din’s lips. “I really enjoyed that. And I mean it.” Din searches his face, and he must’ve found what he wanted because he mirrors Luke’s smile. He tugs Luke back under his chin.

“That’s all I wanted,” he murmurs, lips pressed against Luke’s hair.

Luke doesn’t know for how long they stay like that, enjoying each other’s embrace, sunlight washing over them as the sun rises in the sky. It’s probably no more than thirty minutes, but to Luke, it feels like hours before Din eventually pulls back.

“Shower?” he murmurs, carding his fingers through Luke’s hair. Luke’s heart does an excited flip.

“You mean together, right?” he asks, just to be sure, and Din just looks at him blankly. Flush rises to Luke’s cheeks. “Right.”

“Come here,” Din sits up and pulls Luke with him. “Let me take care of you this time.” He takes Luke’s hand and gently leads him to the shower.

Luke doesn’t argue.

* * *

The last thing Luke wants later that day is to leave the house.

Looking back, he really didn’t expect much from the morning. A part of him even thought Din would leave in the middle of the night and that he would wake up in the morning, cold and alone, his memories the only indication of his night with Din. Granted, he did wake up before Din, but he has a feeling that Din wouldn’t have left anyway if he was the one to wake up first.

Luke smiles even now when he thinks about their morning together. There’s still a slight tingle between his legs, a perfect ache that reminds him he didn’t just dream about having sex with Din, and he loves it. He even thinks he might be addicted to it, and it’s not even dark out, but he looks forward to spending the night with Din.

He thinks they might start with a shower first this time. He loved taking a shower with Din, letting the man’s expert hands wash him, peppering kisses all over his body, but they were both too spent to do anything afterwards. Luke thinks about Din pressing him against a wall as warm water rushes over them, kissing him senseless, one hand traveling down to grab Luke’s cock. He thinks about Din taking him to bed, hovering over him as he opens Luke up this time, expert fingers brushing over his sensitive spot before he slides his cock in. He thinks about Din thrusting jerkily, chasing his climax, as Luke’s hands play with his own cock to jerk himself off in time with Din’s thrusts.

Just a few days ago, the thought would make him blush. Now…

Well, he’s blushing now too, sure, but he feels his stomach flutter and his toes curl with excitement. For the first time, he can’t wait for the night to come.

And of course, that’s the day Leia has to call him and ask him to come to her place urgently.

Luke knows Din doesn’t mind it. He has a day off from work, so he can easily take care of Grogu. Besides, they spent the entire morning together, making breakfast after their shower, for once neither of them scared of touching each other. Luke remembers watching Din cook the eggs as he leaned against Din’s side, his cheek resting on his shoulder, and he thinks he could spend every morning like that and not get tired of it.

Really, that morning is the most time Luke has spent with Din in the last couple of weeks. Visiting Leia for a few hours should be fine…except Luke doesn’t want to leave Din. It feels like the moment he steps outside of the house, their little bubble of happiness will burst, and Luke will find himself coming back to Din being his distant self again.

Luke really doesn’t think he can sleep in an empty bed after last night.

Still, Leia is relentless, it’s apparently an emergency, and Luke knows that he has to leave. Din at least gives him a goodbye kiss, his hand lingering on Luke’s elbow. “I’ll see you tonight?” he asks, as if he’s scared himself to burst their bubble.

Luke at least finds comfort in the fact that he’s not alone. He smiles and nods, stealing one last kiss from Din before leaving.

The moment he sees Leia, though, Luke realizes that maybe, just  _ maybe  _ he shouldn’t have come. Leia pulls the door open in a rush, hair all over the place, wearing one of Han’s sweatshirts instead of her usual business casual outfits, and Luke knows something is up.

He doesn’t even get the chance to ask before Leia pulls him into the house. She doesn’t even bother with a welcome. “You need to quit your job,” she says, point blank, and something freezes inside Luke.

That’s how they find themselves in Leia’s kitchen, Luke sitting on a stool with his hands wrapped around his cup of coffee, Leia pacing in front of the counter, words coming out of her in a rush. Most of it, Luke doesn’t understand—doesn’t  _ want  _ to understand. He listens absentmindedly, eyes focused on the coffee swirling in his cup. It feels like Leia is talking about a stranger, or recounting the plot of a book, even though Luke knows full well who she’s talking about. It still doesn’t feel real.

“Are you even listening to me?” Leia snaps finally, stopping in front of Luke. Her arms are crossed over her chest and her brow is raised, and just for a brief moment, something like fear flickers in Luke. “Did you hear what I said?”

Luke gulps and turns back to his coffee. “You were talking about Din,” he says, voice completely devoid of emotion. “Talking about his involvement with the Mandalorians.”

“I was talking about how he’s their  _ leader,  _ Luke,” Leia hisses, finally sitting down on the stool across from Luke. “You said it yourself, right? He owns the land. He owns the mansion. The whole fucking place. He’s a fucking—” Leia’s voice trails off and she looks away, quickly blinking away her tears. “He’s a fucking mob boss.”

Luke’s mind barely registers the words. He stares at Leia, hands tightening around his coffee cup to ground himself, and he shakes his head. “That’s not true,” he whispers, voice soft, even though he knows that deep down, it makes sense. What Leia is describing fits all the puzzle pieces Luke already had together, almost too perfectly for Luke’s liking. But if he stares at the big picture for too long, Luke thinks he might break, so he doesn’t.

“That’s not  _ true?” _ Leia parrots, biting back a snort. “So what, you’re telling me all my research, all the classified stuff I had to dig through, all of those are lies?” Leia vaguely gestures at the files on the counter, files Luke refuses to look at, and Luke has to bite back his tears. He turns to Leia and for a moment, he doesn’t have anything to argue with.

At least, nothing that would convince her that Din isn’t what these files make him out to be.

“He’s a good person,” Luke says weakly, holding onto that thought with everything he has. Leia gapes at him, brows arched, and this time, she actually laughs. It’s humorless and loud and it makes Luke wince, especially when she drops her head into her hands, but he has nothing to offer to ease her worries. Nothing except repeating what he just said, and he doesn’t think that’s enough.

“A good person,” Leia parrots, wiping away her tears. Her hands fall onto the files, fingers shaky. “I tell you that Din is a Mandalorian, that they’re notorious for their secret ties to the government, that they’ve been  _ avoiding the law  _ for decades, and your response is that he’s a  _ good person?” _ Luke winces again, wrapping his arms around himself. He doesn’t have an answer. “You know what?” Leia laughs again, voice hoarse from either tears or anger. “I’m done. I don’t… I’m not explaining this shitshow to you again. I don’t care what you think about him. You’re  _ quitting,  _ Luke. Today.” She stops for a second. “In fact, you’re staying with me. I’m not letting you go back. Whatever stuff you have there, we can just replace them.”

Luke snaps out of his thoughts. Fear flickers in his heart again, for a whole other reason, and he looks up. “No,” he says, for once voice strong. Leia stops midway through standing up and turns her harsh gaze on him. Somehow, this time, it doesn’t have any effect on Luke.

Not when he thinks about Din giving him a goodbye kiss, something akin to fear and longing flickering behind his gaze. Not when he thinks about Din pulling him into the shower in the morning, hands soft on Luke’s body, eyes flickering to Luke’s face every now and then to make sure Luke’s okay. Not when Din not only gave him the best orgasms he ever had, but took care of him every step of the way, made sure everything he did was pleasant and enjoyable to Luke first and himself second.

Not when he thinks about Din in the middle of the night, waiting for him to come back home, losing his hope piece by piece every minute Luke doesn’t show up. Not when he thinks about Din going to bed, defeated, thinking Luke doesn’t want him anymore. Not when he thinks about Din wondering where he went wrong, the unanswered questions eating him up.

He knows it’ll break Din’s heart if Luke doesn’t come back. And even the thought of it makes Luke sick.

“What do you mean  _ no _ ?” Leia asks, palms pressed on the counter. “Luke, he’s a  _ criminal _ .”

“You don’t know that.”

“Did you even  _ listen to—” _

“I did, Leia!” Luke hates raising his voice, especially to his sister, but he can’t help it. He shakily pushes the files away from himself. “I listened, and all you proved is that Mandalorians are very secretive about their society and seem to be somewhat tied to the government.”

“They’re tied to  _ criminal networks— _ ”

“You’re guessing that!” Leia opens her mouth to argue, but Luke is faster. “There are some photographs of them  _ around  _ criminals. Some names that  _ may be  _ tied to Mandalorians that were part of criminal networks. None of that is concrete evidence. For all you know, they might be helping the police catch those criminals.”

“Oh my  _ God _ , Luke, how  _ stupid can you be—” _

“I’m not  _ stupid!”  _ Luke knows he sounds petty and, deep down, he knows everything in front of him makes sense with everything he’s seen in Din’s house, but then Din’s brown eyes swim in front of him and…he  _ can’t.  _ Luke is good at reading people, and if he knows one thing, he knows that Din is  _ not  _ a criminal. He may be a billionaire, he may be involved with this Mandalorian group, he may even be their  _ leader,  _ but deep down Luke knows him.

Din’s the guy who wears thrift store flannels and cheap sweatpants around the house instead of designer clothes. Din’s the guy who hands Luke his expensive cars or computers or phones without a second thought when he thinks Luke might need them. Din’s the guy who opened up his entire mansion to Luke and never once made him feel unwelcome, or like a servant.

Din’s the guy who so easily could’ve taken advantage of Luke during sex, using his position, but instead made sure to get Luke’s consent and made Luke feel loved and cared for every single second.

And Din’s the guy who not only saved Grogu from Gideon but opened his house up to him, adjusted his life to make Grogu comfortable, and never once made Grogu feel like he was anything but his own son.

It’s hard for Luke to imagine Din as the criminal Leia is making him out to be.

“You met him, Leia,” Luke tries desperately, cursing himself when his voice shakes. “You told me that he was a good person. That if I…” He struggles to find the right words. “If I wanted a relationship with him, you  _ told  _ me I could go for it because you believed he wouldn’t take advantage of his position. That he would take care of me just the same.”

“Luke, just because you might have a stupid  _ crush  _ on him doesn’t mean—”

“This has  _ nothing  _ to do with my  _ feelings!” _

“Right. That’s not why you’re so fiercely protecting a  _ potential criminal  _ who’s been fucking weird to you from the beginning in the first place—”

“I’m protecting him because _I_ _know him!”_ Luke hates the way his voice cracks on the last word. He blinks away his tears and grips the edge of the counter to keep himself steady. “And I can’t just up and leave him because of the little biased research you did here. He deserves a chance to explain himself.” By the time he finishes, Luke feels breathless. He keeps his eyes on the counter, pointedly not looking at Leia, but he can tell that she’s frozen. She uncrosses her arms and they limply fall to her sides.

“You kissed him.” For once, she’s quiet. Luke’s eyes snap up at her but he doesn’t argue. Leia’s eyes widen. “You  _ actually  _ kissed him.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Luke snaps, suddenly defensive. For once, Leia doesn’t retort. She presses her lips into a thin line and searches Luke’s face.

“Did he take advantage of you?” she whispers, and all Luke can do is stare. “Did he… Did he force himself on you?”

_ “Excuse me?” _ Luke’s voice is too thin, but for once, he doesn’t even care. Anger bubbles up his chest. “He didn’t do anything to me that I didn’t  _ ask  _ him to.” It’s impressive that his voice his still, but in his anger, he doesn’t even have the energy to feel shy about having sex with Din. A part of him even wants to  _ throw  _ that in Leia’s face, describe in excruciating detail how  _ good  _ it felt, but he keeps his mouth shut.

Leia sits across from him and takes his hand in his. “Luke, if he hurt you in any way—“

“ _ Fucking hell,  _ Leia, he gave me the best orgasm I’ve had in my  _ life. _ ” Leia flinches at his words and a flush rises to her cheeks, but for once Luke doesn’t care. “I wanted it. I asked for it. He wouldn’t have tried anything otherwise.” He focuses his gaze on Leia so she can read the honesty in his eyes. “He checked up on me at every turn. He was hard as  _ fuck  _ and he still stopped me to make sure I was comfortable.” Luke presses his lips together and takes several deep breaths, trying to keep his voice down. Yelling at Leia won’t help either of them now, no matter how much he wants to.

Leia pulls her hand back from Luke a few seconds later. “This isn’t just about sex for you, is it?” she whispers, and Luke hears it in her voice. Leia  _ knows,  _ and she sounds… _ horrified.  _ “You’re in love with him.”

Luke looks away, but he doesn’t deny it. Leia pulls her hands back as if Luke burned her and a humorless laugh escapes her lips. “You  _ actually _ fell in love with him.”

“Leia.”

“No, Luke, I don’t… I don’t want to hear any more of your excuses.” He looks up, and Leia’s brown eyes pierce his. “I can’t believe you  _ actually— _ Fuck, I thought you’d be the last person to let your feelings blind you to reality.”

“That’s  _ not  _ what this is.”

“Is it not?” Leia crosses her arms over the table. “It didn’t take you a lot to suspect Palpatine.”

Her words feel like a punch in the gut. Luke’s insides freeze and any kind of sympathy he might’ve felt for Leia, any kind of understanding he might’ve offered, it’s gone. Instead of answering, he pushes his stool back and stands up, grabbing his car keys from the counter.

“Luke!” Leia calls, rushing after him. He shakes away her hand when he feels it around his wrist. “For God’s sake, Luke,  _ stop, you can’t go back—” _

“You can’t stop me.” Luke’s voice is completely blank. His hand stills on his jacket and he turns to face Leia. She stumbles back when she sees his expression, eyes wide and horrified. Luke can’t even bring himself to feel guilty. Leia knows what Palpatine did to Luke. For her to bring it up so  _ easily…  _ “Din is not Palpatine.”

“Luke, I didn’t  _ mean—” _

“You can’t just take that back, Leia,” Luke whispers, clenching his fists around his jacket. Leia falls silent, eyes glistening with tears. Luke shakily puts his jacket on. “You know what it took for me to go against Palpatine. I wouldn’t throw all that aside because I stupidly fell in love with someone.” He stares at Leia for one last time before turning around, pulling the door open.

“I’ll tell Father,” Leia says, her voice tinted with desperation. “He’ll attack the lands, Luke. You know he will.”

The threat would’ve given Luke a pause before. Now, it just washes over him. He thinks about the security around the place, the guards who clearly respect Din enough to lay down their lives for him. He just shrugs.

“Let him try.”

* * *

Luke feels numb by the time he’s back home.

The sun has set barely half an hour ago, the sky still tinted a dark shade of red, and all the excitement Luke had in the morning about the night is gone. As much as he tells himself it shouldn’t matter, Leia’s words still haunt him, her accusations against Din bitter and painful.

Luke doesn’t want to believe her, and yet, even he has to admit that it makes too much sense.

It was easy to argue against Leia when he wasn’t left alone with his thoughts for an hour. Easy to counter her claims when the memories of the previous night were still fresh in Luke’s mind, reminding him just how well Din took care of him. Now that Luke had a chance to think through everything over the drive back, he’s  _ terrified. _

He knows Din’s not…Palpatine. He knows Din is not a bad guy, at least. But if it’s true that Mandalorians have ties with criminal networks, it’ll break Luke. A part of him, a part that’s desperately in love with Din, wants him to ask about it just so Din can confirm his biggest fears aren’t true. Just so they can get back to the happiness of the morning.

Another, maybe more logical part isn’t sure he’ll like the answer he’ll get. 

Once he parks the car in the garage, Luke looks out the window numbly. The door to the house is closed, so Luke doubts Din heard him come in.

He wishes that Din did, just so he could come out, sweep Luke into his arms, and tell him that he has nothing to worry about. He wishes Din could tuck Luke under his chin, press Luke’s face to his shoulder, and whisper sweet nothings in his ear until Luke forgets everything Leia said.

But Din doesn’t come, and Luke has to stop the car with shaky hands and leave. He stops briefly in front of the wall of weapons. Impulsively, he runs a careful finger over one of the knives. It’s definitely not for decorative purposes.

He gulps and looks away. He doesn’t want to know whether Din ever used it on someone. Whether there’s blood on the blade.

His knees are shaky as he moves to the door. The living room is empty, but Luke does hear noises coming from the kitchen. It sounds like Din is cooking and talking, though Luke can’t make out what he’s saying. Quietly, he approaches the door.

“Waffles aren’t  _ lame,  _ kid,” Din laughs, and with a start Luke realizes Grogu must be in there with him. He freezes right outside the door, throat knotted. “I know I could’ve made something fancier, but waffles are Luke’s favorite. Granted, it’s surprising he even tastes the waffles under all the fruit and chocolate, but…” Din stops briefly and Luke peeks inside. Grogu is there, sitting cross legged by the counter, a piece of paper in front of him. Din comes into his vision a few seconds later, carrying two plates, one with waffles and the other piled with fruit. Luke sees triple berries, strawberries, and even bananas.

All his favorite fruit. Luke has to blink away his tears.

Din stops in front of Grogu and places the plates on the counter. Grogu looks up and his hands immediately reach for the berries. “Not so fast,” Din whispers softly and reaches around to grab a smaller bowl. “Here’s yours. The rest is for Luke, okay?” He gently boops Grogu’s nose, and Luke can’t see Grogu’s face, but he can imagine the kid is smiling. “You know how he gets at night. He’ll eat the entire fridge if I let him.”

Grogu hums, and a soft chuckle leaves Din’s lips. “Yes, I know I’m baking cookies too.” Grogu tilts his head. “Yes, triple chocolate chip is  _ a lot _ , but it’s not just for today. We can have the rest later.” He ruffles Grogu’s hair. “I just needed some snacks for movie night, and Luke doesn’t like popcorn. He says it always gets between his teeth. Cookies are a good compromise, huh, kid?”

_ Movie night? _ Luke’s eyes flicker to the living room, and he realizes there’s a bunch of blankets and pillows thrown on the couch. Din placed two ottomans right in front of the couch so they can lie down and cuddle, and dimmed the lights even more than what Luke is used to with Grogu. Luke realizes with a start that Din must’ve been planning this out ever since he left.

A movie night. Luke’s favorite food. Snacks.  _ Triple chocolate chip cookies.  _ Luke is speechless.

He’s so lost in thought that he doesn’t realize he stepped forward, into Din’s eyesight. Din’s voice takes Luke out of his thoughts. “Luke?” He jumps and spins around, wide eyes finding Din’s warm brown ones. An easy smile spreads on Din’s face as he leans over the counter. “Damn. And here I wanted the movie night to be a surprise.”

Din sounds happy, not at all upset that Luke seemed to have discovered his plans. Luke almost gets lost in his eyes and forgets everything he and Leia talked about, everything about Mandalorians. Then he thinks back to the knife, to the very real blade, and a weight settles on his stomach.

Din’s smile slowly slips off his face. “Luke?” He straightens up. “Is everything okay?” Luke numbly stares at him before his eyes move down, catching the sight of Din’s flannel. It’s unbuttoned and Din is wearing a white tank top underneath that leaves barely anything to imagination, but that’s not even what catches Luke’s attention. He  _ knows  _ that flannel. He knows those shades of crisscrossing blues. No wonder the fabric is stretched tight on Din’s shoulders.

It’s Luke’s flannel.

He has to gulp back a knot. He looks back up at Din, and suddenly, he realizes if he doesn’t ask, it’ll eat him up. He clenches his fists and steps into the kitchen. “Din,” he starts, and fear flickers in Din’s eyes. “Tell me about Mandalorians.”


	13. I'm still a believer but I don't know why

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uh. i'm. sorry about this chapter. that's it. that's the note.
> 
> as always, thank you to my beta liz-ee. she's the best.
> 
> p.s. title is from Mirrorball by Taylor Swift

“Tell me about Mandalorians.”

The moment Luke speaks those words, fear curls in Din’s gut. Luke’s eyes are blank and icy instead of their usual shade of warm sky blue, his hands are curled into fists at his side, and he looks tense, as if he’ll snap if Din makes any harsh movements. Din holds onto the counter to keep himself steady and his eyes flicker to Grogu.

The kid isn’t looking at him, but Din knows that he feels the tension in the room. “Luke,” he murmurs, protective fingers finding their way to Grogu’s side. He turns back to Luke, gulping back the knot in his throat. “Where did you hear that name?” Luke’s eyes meet his, and Din watches as he slowly unclenches his fists.

“Does it matter?” His voice is softer now, even though his body language makes it clear that he hadn’t calmed down one bit. “I know you’re one, if that’s what you’re wondering. I just want to know what they are.”

“Luke.”

“Din, don’t tell me you can’t—”

“Let me take Grogu to his room.” Din’s voice is soft, his eyes focused on his son. Grogu’s fingers are twitching around the pencil he’s holding and his eyes are shut tightly. Luke, as if he’s just realized that Grogu is there, turns to the kid. Some tension seeps out of his shoulders and Din briefly sees guilt flicker in his eyes. The first emotion Din’s seen out of him.

Luke nods, stepping away from the door and letting Din take Grogu out. The kid immediately snuggles into Din’s shoulder, fingers holding onto Din’s flannel, and hides his face in the crook of Din’s neck. Despite feeling out of his depth himself, Din tightens his arms around Grogu and presses a kiss on his hair.

Din dims the lights in the room and places Grogu into his bed, tucking the weighted blanket around his legs. Grogu’s fearful eyes are flickering up at him every now and then, and even that tells Din just how scared Grogu is.

He forces back his tears and offers Grogu a smile. “Kid, you have nothing to worry about,” he lies, voice thankfully steady. Still, Grogu tilts his head as if he doesn’t believe him, and his eyes flicker to the pile of letters resting on his bed.

Din can only watch as Grogu picks them up, one by one, heart hammering against his ribs. The kid places them in front of Din in order and then twists the blanket around his fingers, pushing the letters closer to Din with his feet. PAPA OK. Din stares at the letters, his throat tied into a large knot, and it’s an effort to speak.

“Did Luke teach you how to read?” Grogu doesn’t say anything. He just tilts his head, reaches for the letters again, and then grabs Y, E, and S. The kid looks proud despite being worried, shoulders high and lips curled into a soft smile, and a part of Din wants to wrap his son into a tight hug and congratulate him, but…

Luke taught Grogu how to write. Luke took the time to teach his son how to communicate in his own way, so Grogu had a way of talking to people, and he did it all without telling Din, without riling up Grogu in any way. Din can’t even blink away his tears. His son, his  _ kid _ , knows how to read at the age of  _ five  _ thanks to Luke, knows enough to pick out the letters and correctly arrange them, and Din remembers all the babysitters that told him Grogu was too hard a kid to take care of, that he had too many boundaries, that he somehow  _ had to  _ find a way to talk and socialize if he wanted to get anywhere, and Din remembers hugging Grogu tightly so he would forget all those words, whispering empty reassurances in his kid’s ears, afraid they were right, that nothing would become of Grogu…

And then there’s  _ Luke.  _ Luke, who always seems utterly confused when Din tells him that people don’t understand Grogu’s boundaries. Whose eyes attentively follow Grogu whenever they’re together just to understand the kid’s feelings. Who dims the lights almost instinctively whenever he takes Grogu to a room, who puts enough space between him and the kid and lets Grogu set the boundaries, who picks up on Grogu’s silent needs as easily as if the kid’s been talking out loud. Luke didn’t give up and claim Grogu wouldn’t be able to learn anything just because he couldn’t speak, and as if to prove all the other babysitters wrong, he took it upon himself to teach Grogu how to read.

Din’s eyes turn to Grogu’s face, blurry because of his tears, and fear claws its way into his heart. He doesn’t even have the space to think about  _ himself  _ or how heartbroken he would be if Luke chose to leave. He can heal his own wounds. But he knows it’ll kill him if Grogu loses Luke and has to settle for another shitty babysitter, settle for cries and panic attacks instead of Luke’s attentive care, settle for harsh accusatory words instead of Luke’s sweet, understanding tone.

Din realizes with a start that at that moment, he’d rip out his heart and give it to Luke if that’s what it took for him to stay. 

“Kid,” Din whispers quietly, moving his hands to softly cup Grogu’s cheeks. “I’m so proud of you.” Grogu’s wide, brown eyes find Din’s briefly, before he pushes the letters closer to his father. Din presses his lips into a thin line and forces his voice to sound steady. “I’ll be fine, Grogu,” he says, the lie sour on his tongue. “Luke and I will have a little chat and everything will be okay. I promise.” He offers Grogu a tearful smile and presses a kiss on his forehead. “Is it okay if you stay here for a while? I can put something on the TV.”

It’s clear Grogu doesn’t want Din to go, but he nods and snuggles under the blanket. Din quickly pulls up one of the recorded episodes of Tinker Bell and leaves.

He has to stop in front of the staircase for a few seconds to pull himself together before he can go downstairs. Fear twists in his gut like a knife and all he wants is to avoid Luke, even though he knows the conversation is inevitable.

All he can hope for is that Luke won’t quit. Din barely cares about whatever budding relationship they had between them. As long as Luke stays, Din will put his feelings aside and make sure Luke is as comfortable as possible.

He’s not very hopeful that Luke will.

Din’s whole body is trembling by the time he makes his way to the kitchen. Luke doesn’t notice him at first, giving Din the chance to watch him. Luke is standing in front of the fridge, eyes flickering over the pictures and drawings, face completely neutral. It’s not the first time Din thinks Luke looks stunning—the hair that would rival the sun in brightness, eyes with an unmatched shade of blue, long lashes, pink lips, full and kissable and capable of smiling so bright that you’d forget every single worry…

When Luke’s eyes turn to him, they’re blank, and Din winces. He doesn’t know whether he should even be glad that Luke doesn’t look angry anymore.

He turns his eyes away just in time to miss the small smile that flickers on Luke’s face. “I made tea,” Luke says gently, making his way to the kitchen counter. He pushes a cup with a green alien on it closer to Din. “Earl grey, no sugar, no milk. Just how you like it.” Din stares at the counter for a few seconds, the black liquid swirling in his mug, and then Luke’s hands enter his vision again. He places a triple chocolate chip cookie in front of Din on a napkin. “They were done, so I took them out. I thought we could use some sweets.”

Luke sounds incredibly soft and Din feels numb, making his way to the counter. He shakily sits down on the stool and clasps his hands around the mug. He doesn’t care that it burns his hands.

“Din,” Luke murmurs, and finally Din can’t help himself. His gaze flickers up and meets Luke’s blue eyes, wide and innocent, and he has to look away. He forces his mouth to work.

“You know about us,” he says, voice surprisingly steady. Luke stays quiet for a few seconds.

“Not much.” Din almost scoffs. That’s not surprising. “I’ve heard things. About Mandalorians, I mean. About their…leader.” Din hopes Luke didn’t notice his wince. He sees Luke sit down from the corner of his eyes, his hands clasped on the counter, and Luke dips his head almost as if to catch his eyes. “But I want to hear it from  _ you _ .”

Din doubts anything he can say would change Luke’s mind, especially coming from a family of politicians, but he gulps and nods anyway. He takes a sip from his tea just to get his mouth to work. The burn on his tongue is welcome.

“What do you want to know?” he asks, half because he doesn’t really know where to start, and half because he’s curious about what Luke will ask. Luke stays silent for a moment.

“Is everyone on the lands a Mandalorian?” he asks, and surprise flickers on Din’s face. He glances up at Luke, brow arched, but it’s impossible to read Luke’s face. Din hates it—Luke is usually so expressive that him keeping a blank face makes Din uneasy. As if Luke has already made his mind.

As if whatever Din says, he’ll leave.

Din gulps and forces the words out. “No. We open our houses and jobs to anyone who needs it, but they’re not required to…”  _ Swear the creed,  _ Din thinks, but he doubts Luke would understand that. “Join us.”

“But they can.”

“They can, if they choose to. We don’t force them into it. Being a Mandalorian…” Din wets his lips, trying to find the right words. “It’s an important part of our identity. We don’t expect that everyone will cherish it the same as we do.”

“And do you kick them out if they don’t?” Din grimaces. He knows that there was a time that was the usual practice, but that changed shortly before he was taken in by the Mandalorians.

“No. Anyone is welcome to stay, regardless of that.” He squeezes his mug and lets out a short breath. “Part of our belief system is to help those that need it. We don’t kick people out unless they want to leave themselves.” Din falls silent, waiting for Luke’s next question. He takes another sip from his tea just to have something to do.

“What do you do?” Luke asks finally, and Din’s eyes flutter close. He doubts Luke will like the answer. “I mean, you said you work with the police. Is that… Is that true?” Luke’s voice is thinner now, almost fearful, and Din hates it. He opens his eyes to stare at his tea, as if the right words will jump out at him.

“Yes,” he starts tentatively. “We help the police catch criminals and provide resources if need be, in exchange for our secrecy. Nobody really knows our way of life, or our rules, or the full list of our members. It’s to ensure some government higher-up can’t use us to their own will.” Din gulps back his tears. He hopes it doesn’t sound too shady to Luke, too creepy and cult-like. “It’s not so that we get away with breaking the law or hurting people. We have our own rules for that that we are sworn not to break. But Mandalorians stick together.” He lowers his voice. “This is the way.”

There’s a soft chuckle from Luke and Din’s heart soars at the sound. He pointedly doesn’t look up from his tea, trying to stave off the crushing weight reminding him that it might be the last time he’ll hear Luke’s laugh.

“Like a family?” Luke asks, voice soft and amused. Despite himself, one corner of Din’s lips tips up.

“Yeah.”

Luke breaks the silence after a few moments. “How did you become a Mandalorian?” Din can hear the genuine curiosity in his voice. His eyes flutter closed as the memories of that night fills his mind. He has to swallow down his pain.

“My parents weren’t rich. To make money, my dad made a deal with someone. When he couldn’t make good on his promise… They came to attack our house. Mandalorians were the ones that got me out of there.”

A soft gasp escapes Luke’s lips. “Din, I’m so sorry,” he murmurs, and Din sees his fingers twitch on the counter, as if he wants to reach out to Din. He doesn’t. Din gulps back the sudden disappointment and continues.

“They adopted me and took care of me until I could get back on my feet. They gave me a chance to leave, make a life for myself outside, but I chose to stay. I’ve been a Mandalorian since I was nineteen.”

It’s been over fifteen years, but to Din, he doesn’t remember a time he wasn’t one of them.

“It’s how you adopted Grogu, too, right?” Luke says, taking him out of his thoughts. His voice is almost too quiet for Din to hear. “You saved him from Gideon and took him in.” Din’s grip tightens around his mug. He stares at the swirling black liquid for a few seconds before he can find his voice.

“I saw him at the police station. I couldn’t… I couldn’t just leave him there, at the mercy of CPS or whatever fucked up agency they were going to call.” Even the thought of Grogu in a crowded orphanage or a messed up foster house makes bile rise in Din’s throat. It’s been a year, and the fear of not getting to Grogu in time, the fear of leaving Grogu in the clutches of a selfish system is still like a fresh wound in Din.

He blurts out the words without even thinking about it. “Luke, you can’t leave.” He can’t even look up at Luke, staring at his tea, willing his mind to work so he can properly put together what he wants to say. Instead, his mind seems to be fixated on Grogu. “You taught Grogu how to read.”

“Din,” Luke whispers, voice shaky, but Din doesn’t give him the chance to continue. As if stopping Luke now will stop him from leaving later.

“All the babysitters before you told me he couldn’t communicate. That he needed to fucking ‘get his act together’ and start speaking or else he would get nowhere. And I… Fuck, he’s my kid, I didn’t want to believe them, but I just…” Tears fill Din’s eyes, but he doesn’t bother wiping them away. He keeps his hands firmly around the mug, the only thing keeping him grounded right now. “And then you come and you  _ understand  _ him and listen to his silent words and you  _ teach him how to read _ —” His voice cracks and he has to stop, letting tears flow down his cheeks briefly. He bites the inside of his cheek so harshly that he’s pretty sure he draws blood.

“And Grogu adores you,” he whispers, voice so quiet that it’s possible Luke doesn’t even hear it. “He refuses to be alone with half of my friends and he stays with you for  _ hours  _ and even overnight, and I— _ fuck _ , Luke, you’re irreplaceable.” A silent sob cuts his words and he shuts his eyes tightly. He only opens his mouth when he’s sure he won’t break down.

“I can get you a new house,” he whispers, trying to come up with a plan. “You can have the Ferrari with you, I don’t care. I get it if you don’t want to see me, you don’t have to stick around when I’m back. And I’ll try to get you anything you need, but… Luke,  _ please.”  _ His voice trails off as another choked sob escapes his lips. The next words are barely loud enough for even him to hear. “Don’t quit. Please.” He presses a hand over his lips just in time to muffle his sobs.

His eyes flicker open only when he hears Luke’s stool move on the floor. Luke’s footsteps approach and Din feels him stop right next to him. “Please,” he whispers, losing the last bit of hope he had. He fully expects Luke to turn around and leave.

Instead, he feels gentle fingers take his hands. Luke moves him, and Din is wholly unprepared when Luke cups his cheeks and tilts his head back, capturing his lips in his.

Din freezes for only a moment, and then melts into the kiss, eyes fluttering close. One hand comes up to grasp Luke’s shirt, balling it in his fists as if he’s afraid Luke will float away if he doesn’t hold onto him. A soft whine escapes his lips when Luke pulls back.

Luke chuckles softly and wipes away Din’s tears. “I’m not going anywhere,” he promises and Din’s eyes snap open. He searches Luke’s face, looking for any hint of a lie, but he can’t find it. Luke looks as bright, genuine, and honest as always. “And not just for Grogu,” he adds, brushing Din’s hair back and curling his fingers around the nape of Din’s neck. “For you, too.” The corners of Luke’s lips tip up into a soft smile, eyes the warmest shade of blue, and despite the doubts clawing at his chest, Din believes him.

Fresh tears fill his eyes. Luke quickly moves his hands, capturing them with his thumbs, and pulls Din close so Din can bury his face in his chest. His arms wrap around Din tightly. He doesn’t say anything, letting Din’s silent sobs die down as he rubs Din’s back.

“You put a picture of me on the fridge,” Luke murmurs after a while. Din pulls back just enough to look at his face, resting his chin on Luke’s chest. His fingers curl around Luke’s shirt. His next words come out without hesitation.

“Because I like you.” He hopes, despite his tears, that Luke knows he’s being genuine. Blue eyes search his face for a few seconds, and then a brilliant smile lights up Luke’s face. He leans down to capture Din’s lips.

“Din?” Luke murmurs, fingers carding through Din’s hair. “I like you, too.”

Din tugs him down for another kiss.

* * *

It’s barely halfway through the movie when Din falls asleep.

After Din calmed down, at least enough that Luke was sure he wouldn’t spontaneously burst into tears with the littlest touch, he quietly offered to still watch a movie together if Luke was up for it. The living room was ready, they had their cookies, Luke quickly made lightly sweetened hot chocolate for Grogu, but when they went up to Grogu’s room…

Neither of them felt like leaving. Good thing Grogu had an entire king size bed to himself.

The moment Din and Luke entered the room, hand in hand, Grogu’s eyes lit up. He let out an excited coo and let go of his blanket, flapping his hands and reaching out for the pair. Din easily reached out to his kid and swooped him up in his arms, pressing a light kiss on Grogu’s forehead.

“See, kid, I told you,” he murmured. “Everything’s okay.” He tucked Grogu’s head under his chin and his eyes found Luke’s, a soft smile playing on his lips.

Luke thought he could stay like that forever, just watching Din and Grogu.

But of course, Grogu got antsy pretty quickly, asking to be held by Luke—and  _ no,  _ Luke definitely did  _ not  _ get teary-eyed at the request, no matter what Din says—and they all settled on Grogu’s bed. Din quickly put on Wall-E, apparently one of Grogu’s favorite movies, and spread the blankets over the three of them. Grogu was in the middle, so Luke couldn’t cuddle with Din, but Din’s hand snaked around Grogu’s waist and tugged at Luke’s fingers.

Luke was sure there would be a permanent smile on his face when he locked his fingers with Din’s. It’s only when Din’s fingers loosen in his hand that Luke realizes he must be asleep.

Tearing his eyes from the movie Luke turns to his boyfriend. Din’s head is resting on the bed frame, flopped to one side in a position that Luke can’t imagine is comfortable. His body is positioned towards Grogu, shoulders pressed on one of the pillows, Grogu’s hand clasping his flannel. His free hand is on his son’s chest, resting there lightly, as if Din’s listening to the kid’s heartbeat and ensuring his safety.

Luke’s eyes climb to Din’s face again and a soft smile finds its way to his lips. Din looks stunning, with his long lashes spread over his cheekbones, his full lips slightly parted, his mustache and stubble a mess but endearing nonetheless. Luke very gently pries his fingers from Din’s and reaches up, running his fingers through Din’s soft, brown curls, marveling at how they feel under his fingers. He trails a path down Din’s ear to his cheek, Din’s stubble biting into his hand, and stops right under Din’s lips. He lightly runs his thumb over them, aching to lean in for a kiss, but he doesn’t want to wake him up.

The night was exhausting for Din. Luke can’t imagine how tired he must be. He lets out a shuddered breath when he remembers Din sitting across from him on the counter, refusing to meet Luke’s eyes, anxious and trembling, trying to answer Luke’s questions without breaking down into sobs. Luke is sure that even if years pass, it’ll be impossible to get the image of Din pleading for his son’s happiness out of his mind.

Din didn’t even care that Luke might break up with him. Din didn’t care that Luke might hate him, as long as Luke stayed for Grogu. As long as Grogu was safe and happy.

Luke had made his decision to stay before he heard all of that—he realized pretty quickly that whatever Mandalorians were, they weren’t the bad guys Leia made them out to be—but even if he hadn’t, that would’ve clinched it. Din was a good guy, and Luke knew that now, deep in his heart.

Luke feels a slight tug at this sleeve and looks down. It’s Grogu, cuddled under his weighted blanket like a burrito. The corners of Luke’s lips tip up. “Yeah, kiddo?” he murmurs quietly. Grogu’s eyes flicker to the bedside table and he points at the pile of toy letters Luke and Din dumped there. With an arched brow, Luke puts the letters in front of Grogu.

This time, when Grogu picks his letters, he doesn’t make a mistake. He puts the four of them in front of Luke and tilts his head to the side, curiously waiting for Luke’s reaction.

A soft chuckle leaves Luke’s lips. “Love,” he murmurs, tracing the letters. His eyes fall on Din. “Yeah, kiddo,” he says, a slight flush rising to his cheeks. “I think I might be in love.” He turns back to the kid. “Is that okay with you?”

Grogu doesn’t say anything, but Luke can see his wide bright eyes and soft smile. He reaches for the letters again and this time picks four different ones. The request is clear, and Luke feels a knot lodge in his throat.

“You want me to stay?” he murmurs. Not that he was planning on leaving  _ right now,  _ not when Grogu is still up and the movie is going, but he did think he would eventually leave the father-son duo alone. Except Grogu’s pleading eyes flicker to him every now and then and Grogu pushes the letters closer to him, even tucking the S into Luke’s hands. Luke’s heart stutters in his chest and he smiles.

“I’ll stay then,” he murmurs, leaning down to press a kiss on Grogu’s forehead. “Whatever you want, kiddo.” Grogu giggles quietly when Luke boops his nose.

It’s a good thing that Luke remembered to adjust Din’s position on the bed before the movie was over, because by the time the TV turns off on its own accord, Luke’s eyes are closing, and he doesn’t think he’d have the strength to lift Din. He settles under the blankets, letting Grogu cuddle up to his chest, and snakes his other hand around Grogu to hold Din’s.

He easily falls asleep afterwards.

* * *

_ Luke loves his badge. _

_ It’s stupid. It’s technically not even a  _ badge,  _ in the sense that it’s not shiny or gold or bulky. It’s just a card with his face, name, and position on it. But something flutters in Luke’s chest whenever he looks down at the small black rectangle and sees the words  _ Jedi Knight  _ on there. _

_ He once asked his dad why the Jedi positions were named younglings and knights and masters, like they were out of some medieval universe. Anakin just stared at him. “You’ve been training to be a Knight for two years, and  _ that’s  _ your question?” he asked, and Luke promptly let the subject go, cheeks flushed red. _

_ He’s pretty sure even Anakin doesn’t know the answer. _

_ Still, the badge is cool, and even though Luke knows he can’t wear it on his person—he has a separate badge to use inside the FBI headquarters—and he’s only supposed to use it to access the private facilities, he can’t stop staring at it. _

_ Anakin’s hand appears in his vision, his fingers waving to get his attention away from the badge. “Luke,” Anakin says softly, glancing at his son. “You’ve been staring at that thing like it’s some sort of magical artefact. It’s just a  _ badge.”

_ “Yeah,” Luke huffed, running his fingers over the smooth surface. “But Dad, it’s so  _ cool.”

_ “Luke.” _

_ “But look at it! It’s all black and smooth and they  _ finally  _ got a good side of me, you know? And it says  _ Jedi Knight  _ on it.” A grin pulls Luke’s lips. “I’m a knight now. Not just a youngling.” _

_ For once, Anakin’s face softens. He places a supportive hand on his son’s arm. “You deserve it, Luke.” A bright smile pulls Luke’s lips. “I mean, I know I wasn’t too excited when you wanted to drop out of college to join our ranks, but… I think you’ll make a fine Jedi.” _

_ Luke’s heart flutters in his chest. While Anakin was never one to hold his praise back from his children, it’s always good to hear it. “You think so?” _

_ “I wouldn’t have recruited you to training if I thought otherwise.” He flashes his son a bright smile and tugs at his sleeve when the elevator doors open. “Now come on. We don’t want to be late.” _

_ “To meet this mysterious boss of yours?” Luke teases. Anakin’s in front of him, but he can feel his dad roll his eyes. _

_ “Luke, he’s a senator and the leader of the Jedi program. If I were you, I’d try to make a good impression.” _

_ “Didn’t you  _ just  _ tell me you’ve been gushing about me to him for  _ months  _ now?” _

_ “Hey.” Anakin shoots Luke a glare over his shoulders. “Just because I might’ve put in a good word for you—” _

_ “Like, every single time you talked to him—” _

_ “Doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try to impress him. His approval pretty much guarantees that you’re set for life.” Anakin’s blue eyes turn serious, and Luke’s smile slips off his face. He nods at his father. _

_ “Dad, I know,” he murmurs. And that’s the truth. He knew what he was doing when he dropped out of college to join the ranks of the Jedi. He pretty much breezed through the training, not by luck or Anakin pulling some strings, but by his sheer determination and focus. Most trainees didn’t make the knight rank for at least a few years, but Luke is two years in and even before Anakin said anything, his immediate boss, Ben Kenobi, decided to promote Luke. _

_ And now, for the first time, Luke is meeting their leader. Just for the purposes of safety and secrecy, only Knights and Masters are allowed to know who their leader is, and Luke understands. The reason Jedis are so coveted by the FBI and multiple other divisions of the government is not only their abilities, but also their oath of secrecy. Every higher up knows that if you hire a Jedi to do a job for you, it will not be tied back to you. _

_ Luke slips away from his thoughts when Anakin stops him in front of a dark door. Luke straightens his shoulders, pulling at his black outfit, and lets Anakin knock on the door. A soft voice tells them to come in. Anakin takes the lead, Luke following close behind. _

_ A relatively old man with white hair and blank face looks up from the desk. The man looks relaxed, going through the files on his desk, every bit of the calm and collected picture of a politician. But his eyes meet Luke’s, cold and icy, and Luke feels a shiver run down his spine. _

_ Just as quickly, the man’s expression is replaced by something warm. He offers Luke a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Ah. This must be our new recruit, then,” he says, voice soft, and turns to Anakin. “Your son, I presume?” _

_ Anakin proudly straightens his shoulders and crosses his hands behind his back. “Yes, sir. This is my son, Luke Skywalker. He just finished his youngling training.” He turns to Luke, a soft smile on his face. Luke’s eyes flicker from his dad to the man and he finds himself gulping quietly, trying to keep a neutral face. _

_ It’s stupid, but deep down, Luke feels that there’s something very, very wrong with the man. _

_ “Luke,” Anakin says, his voice distracting Luke from his thoughts. Luke glances at his father, and then turns back to the other man, keeping his eyes firmly focused on the desk to avoid the icy gaze. _

_ “This is Senator Palpatine,” Anakin introduces the man. “He’s the leader of the Jedi program.” _


	14. I once believed love would be burning red, but it's golden

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so. i'm kind of feeling off right now and finals week is coming up, so from now on for at least two weeks, i might not be able to post too often. i'll try to update this as often as possible, but. i have other wips and. you know. FINALS. so.
> 
> hope you like this! as always, thank you to my beta liz-ee
> 
> p.s. title is from Daylight by Taylor Swift

Politicians did not mix with Mandalorians.

In hindsight, Luke should’ve guessed that. Leia absolutely flipped out when she first heard about Din, and as far as she told him afterwards—in a long ass text that was  _ supposed to be  _ an apology but sounded more like Leia making excuses for her behavior, which didn’t surprise Luke at all—the only reason she reacted that badly was because the moment  _ Anakin  _ heard the name, he demanded to know how Leia knew about them and forbid her to  _ ever  _ mix with them.

Bless Leia’s heart that she didn’t immediately spill the beans about Din to Anakin. But Luke knows, if he wants this budding relationship with Din to go somewhere, that he needs to set the record straight. Leia will not stop texting him otherwise—at this point, he just muted her—and he’s pretty sure that if he lets this go for one more day, she will  _ actually  _ go to Anakin.

Luke thinks it would probably be hilarious to see Anakin try to barge into Mandalorian lands, but for both Luke’s sake and Anakin’s safety, Luke prefers to prevent that if possible. Hence why he’s here, in Anakin and Padme’s kitchen, facing both his parents and Leia.

For once, he feels like he’s being ganged up on, and considering he’s with  _ family,  _ it brings a sick feeling to his gut. He gulps and takes a small sip from his tea, trying not to make too long of eye contact with any of his family members—Leia is fuming, Padme looks concerned, and Anakin looks like he’s about ready to grab a gun and chase after whoever upset Luke—as he collects his thoughts.

“So,” he begins, finger moving around the rim of his mug. “There’s something you guys should know. About, uh, my job.” He flickers his eyes up. “And my boss.” He presses his lips together and turns to Leia, widening his eyes to signal her  _ not to say a damn word  _ until Luke says his piece. Leia scoffs and crosses her arms, turning away from the table.

It doesn’t help that Anakin exclaims right then, “I knew it!” He points a finger at Luke, almost spilling his tea all over the table, and narrows his eyes. “I  _ knew  _ something shady was going on with your boss. No one hands out their Ferraris as easily as that.”

“Ani,” Padme interrupts, voice soft.

“What? I was  _ right.  _ That’s a damn million dollar car. Even Elon Musk isn’t that rich.”

“Shouldn’t we listen to Luke first?” Padme asks, ever the negotiator. She plasters a professional smile on her face that Luke is sure she uses at her job and turns to Luke. “I hope everything’s okay, sweetie.”

“Uh.” Luke pointedly doesn’t look at Leia. She’s probably trying to mind control him with just her gaze or something. “Everything’s fine,” he starts, ignoring Leia’s soft groan. He shoots her a glare. “More than fine. I’m happy. With, uh, with my Ferrari. And expensive mansion.” Luke presses his lips together. “Din is good to me, too. He’s, uh… He makes sure I’m taken care of.”  _ In more ways than one.  _ Luke presses his lips together. Maybe not the right thing to lead with. “But, uh… He’s part of this group. That you might not be too happy about.”

Anakin arches a brow. “Is he a scientologist or something?” he asks, and Luke has to bite back a groan. Even Leia rolls her eyes and finally, she can’t keep her mouth shut anymore.

“He’s a Mandalorian, Dad!” she blows up, throwing her hands in the air. “He’s their damn  _ leader.” _

_ “Leia,”  _ Luke hisses, but it’s too late. Both Padme and Anakin stare at Leia for a few seconds before they turn to Luke at the same time, Padme’s eyes blown wide, Anakin barely holding back his anger. Luke straightens up. “Look, I can explain—”

“You’re working for a  _ Mandalorian?”  _ Anakin interrupts, voice so loud that Luke winces. He curls his hands closer to himself and meets his dad’s eyes.

“Dad, he’s not who you think he is.”

“He’s not  _ who—”  _ Anakin laughs, but it isn’t a happy one, and Luke has to look away. “He’s a  _ Mandalorian.  _ Luke, do you have  _ any  _ idea who Mandalorians are?”

“Actually—”

“They’re a fucking  _ cult.”  _ Anakin stands up, spitting the last word, and Luke feels something turn cold inside. “Some sort of damn paramilitary  _ cult  _ with too many damn connections to the  _ government. _ ”

“They’re not like that,” Luke tries to say, but his words fall on deaf ears. He glances at his mother, hoping for any kind of support, but Padme looks terrified, hands clasped over the table. Leia seems satisfied, a smile curling on her lips, and anger bubbles up Luke’s chest.

“How would  _ you  _ even know who they are?” Anakin hisses, throwing his hands into the air. “I’ve been in politics for over  _ five years  _ and I don’t even know  _ one damn thing  _ about them. They’re so damn secretive, probably doing some shady stuff behind the scenes, under the  _ government’s nose— _ ”

“They’re secretive to protect their members, Dad!” Luke cuts in, raising his voice. He hates yelling, especially at his family, but Anakin doesn’t look like he’s going to stop otherwise. Anakin snorts, opening his mouth to continue, but Luke doesn’t give him the chance. “They’re not a cult. Nothing they do is binding, and they don’t hold anything they did over their members’ heads. They’re just a tight knit group who value their secrecy because it’s too damn easy to corrupt an organization once powerful people are involved.”

Luke knows it’s a low blow, knows it immediately when he sees Anakin wince, but he doesn’t stop. He does lower his voice, fingers wrapped back around his mug. “They’re not bad people. They’re just different. And—fuck, I don’t know, Dad. I know politics and law are important but we both know that it fails more often than not. Can you blame them for wanting to stay out of it?” He raises his eyes and meets Anakin’s gaze, still angry but with fear flickering behind his eyes, as well as confusion and disbelief.

“How do you even know any of that?” Anakin asks, quieter for once, and Luke’s heart skips a beat. He straightens his shoulders and this time, he turns to Leia, who’s watching him curiously. He remembers how she almost made him doubt Din and anger flickers in him. Din’s pleading is still branded in Luke’s mind, tearful and desperate, and Luke wishes more than anything that he could take it back, that he could rewind time, go back home and hug Din, have a quiet and happy movie night.

“Because I talked to Din,” he says, ignoring Leia’s snort. “He explained everything to me. And I know there are things about Mandalorians I don’t know, there are things I don’t understand yet, but I know they’re not bad people.” His voice trails off and he feels like he’s pleading at this point, hoping for his parents to believe him—

Before Anakin can even react, Leia cuts in. “Bullshit,” she hisses, palms pressed over the table. “You only think that because you’re  _ in love with Din.”  _ The words echo in the kitchen and Luke’s eyes flutter shut. A part of him wants to shoot back at Leia, wants to tell her that his  _ feelings  _ have nothing to do with his trust in Din, but he knows that’s not true.

Not because he’s blindly believing Din because he’s in love. Luke is in love with Din  _ because _ Din is good. He’s always trusted his gut when it comes to people, and he knew that even from the beginning, before they got into a relationship, that Din was a good person.

“Luke,” Padme whispers, her voice soft. “What’s Leia talking about?” Luke gulps but doesn’t open his eyes, trying to pull his thoughts together so he doesn’t sound like a naïve innocent boy with a high school crush.

Leia doesn’t really give him the chance. “What I mean is that Luke’s been together with Din and he doesn’t  _ see that—” _

“Leia, stop.” Even though Luke’s words are quiet, they do stop Leia. He opens his eyes and looks at his sister. The fury in her gaze breaks when it meets Luke’s and she looks away, pressing a hand over her mouth. “Yes,” Luke continues. “I’m with Din. And before any of you tell me that he’s my boss or he’s a  _ Mandalorian,  _ I know all of that. I knew all of it before I jumped into this. I’m…” He bites the inside of his cheek and stares at his mug. “I know that I haven’t really been able to build a proper life for myself until now, but I’m not a kid anymore. I know what I’m doing. And I know  _ Din.” _

Din’s brown eyes swim in front of Luke’s vision, broken and terrified and tearful. “When I asked him about Mandalorians,” Luke continues, words carefully chosen, “he thought I was going to quit. And we’ve had this… _ thing  _ going on between us for a while, but he didn’t even care about that. He didn’t ask me to stay because he loved me. He pleaded for his  _ son.” _

“Luke, just because—” Leia starts, but Luke doesn’t let her get far. He lifts his eyes to meet her gaze.

“Grogu’s autistic,” he blurts out, and that stops Leia. “And Din didn’t have the best luck with the previous babysitters. They didn’t understand Grogu, didn’t respect his boundaries, didn’t think anything would ever come out of him.” Luke clenches his teeth, trying to keep his anger out of his voice. He stares at his tea before he continues. “I didn’t know he struggled so much. Grogu’s brilliant, and I just… Fuck, it’s not even that hard to understand him if you pay attention a little bit. I didn’t even  _ think  _ he would worry about finding a new babysitter until he broke down in front of me.” Luke’s voice turns into a whisper in an attempt to hold back his tears. “You don’t know Din. You weren’t there for it. And I just… Fuck, Leia, Grogu is his entire world. He’s not a bad guy.” He stops, looking at Leia’s face, and then slowly turns to Padme and Anakin. Padme’s eyes are glistening with unshed tears. She looks away, and Luke knows she’s not convinced.

“Dad,” Luke whispers, his last hope. “When I first met Palpatine, I told you that something was off with him. Immediately. I had no proof and all I heard were nice things, but I just knew he wasn’t a good guy. You know that if I thought for  _ one second  _ Din was bad, I would’ve never stood by him.” He pressed his lips together. “You believed me when it came to Palpatine,” he pleaded, grip strong around his mug. “You trusted my judgment. And now I’m telling you Din is good. Can you trust that I know what I’m talking about?”

Luke holds his breath, for a moment terrified that Anakin won’t listen. The man’s eyes are still icy, his hand fisted over the table, but slowly his face softens. “Does he make you happy?” he asks, ignoring Leia’s soft complaint. A smile flickers on Luke’s face.

“So happy.” A light flush rises to Luke’s cheeks. “He’s really good with me, Dad.” Anakin searches Luke’s face, as if looking for a hint of a lie, and then deflates. He collapses back into his chair and crosses his arms over the table.

“Then I trust you, Luke.”

_ “Dad,”  _ Leia hisses, brows arched. “He’s a  _ Mandalorian. _ ”

“And all I know about them come from secondary sources,” Anakin counters, to Luke’s surprise. “Maybe it’s time we learned about them through someone who’s actually in it.” He looks over at his daughter, and then at his wife, and gently takes Padme’s hand in his. “Luke is right.” His voice is firm and Luke can’t hear even a hint of a doubt in it. “He knows Din best. He knows the Mandalorians better than any of us. And we owe him our trust.”

Padme looks over at Anakin, silent tears streaming down her face. A choked sob escapes her lips and she looks away, burying her face in her hands. Anakin just wraps an arm around her wife’s shoulders.

“I’m sorry,” Padme whispers, and Luke’s heart breaks for his mother. “Luke, I just want you to be happy. After everything with Palpatine…” She looks up, her brown eyes swimming with tears. “Can you promise me that he isn’t hurting you? That he’s treating you well?”

“I promise.” There’s no hesitation in Luke’s voice. He reaches forward to take Padme’s hand in his and squeezes. “Din’s a good guy.” He pointedly glances at Leia. “He even convinced Leia of that, you know. Before this mess.” Leia snorts and looks away, but her face is softer. Luke just smiles. “If you only met him, you’d know what I mean.”

Luke’s words catch up to him when Padme stops and her eyes widen. “Can we?” she asks, voice hopeful, and Luke knows the only way to get her to calm down about this is to bring Din here.

He bites the inside of his cheek. A part of him  _ wants  _ Din to meet his parents, wants to introduce Din to his family to show them how amazing he is, but another part is scared Din will say no, that it will be much too soon and shatter the tentative, budding relationship.

“I’ll see what I can do,” he promises, squeezing his mother’s hand. Padme blinks, and then finally, a smile appears on her face.

And if she spends the rest of the afternoon hugging Luke, tears still streaming down her face, Luke lets her.

* * *

It’s two days later that Luke mentions to Din that his parents maybe, possibly, a little bit,  _ definitely  _ want to meet him.

They’re in the kitchen, Din cooking and Luke cutting the vegetables for him—Luke is  _ still  _ forbidden from getting too close to the stove, after he almost burned down the place once—and Din is able to tell, with just one glance, that Luke is an anxious mess.

Granted, Luke isn’t doing a good job hiding it either. He’s usually pretty good at cutting and dicing, but now his hands are shaking so much that he almost cut himself  _ three times  _ cutting a  _ damn tomato.  _ After the fourth time, when a curse escapes Luke’s lips as he gets his finger out of the way just in time, Din’s fingers wrap around his wrists.

“Luke,” Din murmurs, taking the knife out of Luke’s hands and putting it aside. He gently wipes Luke’s hands with a paper towel and tugs him close. Luke easily melts into the embrace, arms wrapping around Din’s torso, and he places his ear on Din’s chest, right over his heart, listening to his steady heartbeats. “You okay?”

Luke lets out a shaky breath. “Yeah,” he says, and it’s not much of a lie either. Yes, he’s anxious about introducing Din to his parents, but honestly, it could’ve been much worse. Anakin is willing to put aside their differences to meet Din, Padme is hopeful, and as angry as Leia is about the whole situation, Luke thinks it’s mostly because she’s feeling guilty for overreacting and isn’t exactly good at dealing with that. Really, Luke is sure his parents will warm up to Din quickly once they meet him.

His parents aren’t exactly what Luke is worried about. It’s  _ Din,  _ and how he’ll react to Luke asking him to meet his parents. Their relationship is so  _ new  _ that Luke is worried it’ll be too quick, worried that Din, a Mandalorian, won’t accept his family of politicians, worried that Din isn’t as serious about this relationship as Luke is.

Still, he knows he has to bring it up at some point because Padme has been asking about Din every hour, and Luke will lose his mind if he gets another  _ pointed  _ text from his mother implying that she would very much like to meet Din like,  _ right now. _

“I’ve just been thinking about stuff,” Luke confesses, playing with the buttons on Din’s flannel. Well,  _ correction.  _ It’s Luke’s flannel, and he knows it because the orange and blue pattern is familiar to him, and by  _ God  _ it’s so tight around Din’s shoulders that Luke is sure he only wears it to distract Luke. Not that he can complain much about it as he’s wearing one of Din’s sweatshirts right now, soft and baggy and  _ warm,  _ and Din would have to pry it from Luke’s dead body if he wants it back.

Din’s fingers move to the nape of Luke’s neck, slowly massaging to relax Luke’s tense shoulders, and he presses a soft kiss to Luke’s hair. “Care to share?” he asks, voice undemanding. Luke knows that if he shakes his head no right now, Din will let it go. Instead, he sighs and pulls back, resting his chin on Din’s chest so he can look up at Din.

“It’s about my parents,” he starts, fingers curling around Din’s flannel. “I had to talk to them about everything and, um… They, uh… They want to meet you.” Luke stops and holds his breath, waiting for Din’s reaction.

A part of Luke expects Din to be angry that he mentioned their relationship to his parents. Another part expects Din to say it’s too soon. A silly, little part thinks Din might even break things off. But instead, the first thing Luke’s sees in Din’s eyes is  _ fear. _

“You mean your very much politician parents?” he asks, voice thinner than usual, and Luke lets out his breath. A smile even finds its way to his lips. He feels only slightly stupid that he thought Din would just  _ break things off  _ on the spot.

“Mayor Skywalker and Senator Amidala-Skywalker?” Luke teases, a hand moving up Din’s chest. He can almost feel Dins heart stutter under his palm. Din gulps, hands tightening around Luke’s sides.

“Uh. And they didn’t freak out?” he asks, arching a brow. “You know, when you told them that I was…” Din’s voice trails off and Luke laughs.

“Maybe a little bit,” he says. Disbelief flickers in Din’s eyes. “Okay, my dad might’ve yelled about it for about a minute, but then they were willing to hear me out.” Luke wraps his arms around Din’s neck. “I told them that you were an amazing man, and you made me really happy, and that I was an adult capable of making my own decisions and dating whoever I wanted.” The tips of his fingers brush Din’s hair and he feels Din relax under the touch, amusement replacing the fear in his eyes.

“And they were cool with that?”

“They, uh…” Luke remembers Padme’s texts. “Well. They will be. Once they meet you.” He reaches up to press a soft kiss on Din’s lips. “I might be just a bit biased, but you are very much  _ loveable _ , and fortunately my parents have  _ eyes. _ ” He offers Din a wide grin, earning a soft laugh that brings a flutter to Luke’s chest. He finds himself cuddling closer to Din’s chest, stealing another kiss from Din’s lips. “So. What do you say? We can maybe have dinner at their place some time this week? My mom’s a really good cook.”

Din moves a hand to brush Luke’s hair away from his forehead. “Sounds good to me, love,” he murmurs, pressing his lips on Luke’s forehead. Luke leans into the kiss. He’ll probably never get tired of hearing Din call him  _ love. _

They stay like that for a few seconds, Luke basking in Din’s warmth, until Din has to pull back to take care of the lunch on the stove. He lets Luke text his parents, shooing him out the kitchen when Luke tries to grab the knife again, claiming he had it handled.

Luke stops at the kitchen door for a few seconds, watching Din, and he finds that he’s not worried—not even a little bit. He knows he loves Din, he knows Din likes him back, and whatever is thrown their way, they can handle it. Together.

Even if it’s Luke’s parents giving Din shit the entire dinner. Luke is sure they’ll love him at the end.

He ducks out of the kitchen, a permanent smile on his face, and dials Padme’s number.

* * *

Gideon doesn’t fight when the guards place a bag over his head. He lets them grab his arms, cuffing him behind his back, and drag him out of his cell, through the winding corridors, the maze that is the extra security prison.

He tries to keep an account of the lefts and rights, but after the fifth turn, Gideon loses count. He doesn’t even know how much time has passed when he’s stopped. He does hear a door unlock, and then he’s thrown inside.

The door slams behind him.

Gideon waits, trying to calm his breathing down and stay as quiet as possible. He hears faint footsteps, and then fingers wrap around the bag, pulling it off.

He blinks at the sudden bright light and looks up at the familiar face in front of him. It’s older now, lined with scars from his ordeal years ago, and yet the eyes are still as icy and fierce as Gideon remembers. Regardless of what happened to him, Palpatine didn’t lose his strength at all.

“Moff Gideon,” Palpatine spits, throwing the bag aside. “You have a lot of courage asking for a visit after what you  _ pulled. _ ”

Gideon turns his eyes to the floor. He’s pretty sure the guards won’t let Palpatine kill him, but looking at the other man, he’s not sure. Palpatine was always too good at making people disappear. “My hands were tied,” he tries to explain, voice hoarse. “I didn’t have a—”

He doesn’t get the chance to finish his sentence when Palpatine slaps him so hard he stumbles and falls to his side. Without his hands to catch him, he’s easily sprawled on the floor, Palpatine standing over him.

“Hands tied, you say,” Palpatine muses, kneeling next to Gideon. “How about now, Moff? Seems you’ve gotten yourself into a bit of an ordeal yourself.” He purses his lips. “If only I wasn’t in prison. I could’ve helped you. But alas,  _ you  _ didn’t really help me when I was facing my own trial, so…” Palpatine smirks. “As they say. What goes around comes around.”

“Sir, I tried—” Palpatine slaps Gideon again, pain shooting up to Gideon’s face, and it’s an effort to keep his eyes open. He swallows his blood and ducks his head. “I apologize for my past mistakes.”

“Hm.” Palpatine hums and stands up. “You are about five years too late, Gideon.” He turns around, moving back to his bench. “Now I heard that you need help. I’m curious, though, why you think I would help you with  _ anything.” _

Gideon struggles to push himself up on his knees and faces Palpatine. “Because we have a common enemy now,” he spits out, lips discolored with blood. Palpatine turns around, eyes curious. He doesn’t say anything, and Gideon takes that as his cue to continue. “Anakin Skywalker. And his son, Luke.”

Palpatine freezes, eyes turning colder if possible. “Don’t say their names,” he says softly. Gideon shivers, but pushes forward.

“I have men outside that can take them out, but I need money. And my assets are frozen right now.” He presses his lips together. “I know you have the money. All I ask for is your help. And we can take them both out.”

Palpatine considers Gideon for a while, and just as Gideon thinks he will say no, a smile spreads on Palpatine’s lips. He sits down, elbows on his knees.

“How much money are we talking about?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm. sorry for that cliffhanger?


	15. too busy dancing to get knocked off our feet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey y'all!! so a brief update - it's my finals week next week, so i decided to take a break from this story until next friday - that is, for a little bit over ten days. the updates will definitely resume after that - maybe even earlier if i can get my finals done early, but no promises. i wanted to let y'all know
> 
> anyway, hope y'all like this chapter! as always, thank you to my beta liz-ee. she's the best
> 
> p.s. title is from New Romantics by Taylor Swift

Anakin wanted to hate Din Djarin.

Even though he told Luke the other day that he was prepared to listen, to even  _ meet  _ this supposed boyfriend that  _ supposedly  _ made Luke “very happy”, his protective father instincts were telling him that he  _ should  _ hate Din, hate this Mandalorian who seemed too rich for his own good and who was probably some snobby CEO type who couldn’t care about anyone but himself.

Luke was his baby boy and Anakin was completely prepared to punch Din in the face if necessary, Mandalorian or not. He could afford a war with them for his  _ son. _

Needless to say, in the two days that passed between his conversation with Luke, when he was semi okay with Luke’s relationship, and  _ now,  _ he festered that hate in his heart, and he was completely prepared to spew it out to the man the moment he stepped out of the car. It didn’t help that Din and Luke pulled up into the garage in that damn  _ expensive Ferrari  _ that Anakin would sell a kidney to have.

He expected Din to come out of the driver’s side, in a slick suit and white shirt. He expected there to be a smug grin on the man’s face, expected Din to wrap his arm possessively around Luke as if he was trying to  _ show off  _ that Luke was  _ his— _ which,  _ fuck that.  _ But instead the passenger side opens to reveal a man with a soft face and messy brown hair, wearing a white t-shirt, thrift store jeans, and a blue flannel.

Anakin narrows his eyes. He’s pretty sure that’s  _ Luke’s _ flannel _.  _ He then moves his gaze up, meeting wide brown eyes that are swimming with fear, fingers twitching at his sides, and instead of wrapping himself around Luke like Anakin expected, Din barely even  _ touches  _ his boyfriend until Luke takes his hand in his.

So. Clearly, Anakin judged Din wrong. Din is nothing even  _ close  _ to the rich CEO image that Anakin built up in his mind, or the fierce cult member that he sometimes imagined Mandalorians as. In fact, if he saw Din on the street, he would assume that he’s a regular man in his mid-thirties just trying to get by.

Really, the only thing that gives away the fact that Din is rich is his multimillion dollar car, and even then, Din is completely oblivious to how  _ expensive  _ the thing actually  _ is _ —“Uh. It was a gift. From Mandalorians,” he said sheepishly when Anakin asked about it, and  _ really,  _ Anakin would rather not think about how  _ rich  _ Mandalorians are.

Even more than that, though, Din is also  _ not  _ the possessive boyfriend Anakin thought him as. Sure, he holds Luke’s hand tightly until they all file in and sit around the dinner table, his eyes flicker to Luke every so often whenever they’re talking, and Anakin did  _ not  _ miss the way he and Luke shuffled their chairs closer after sitting down, but none of that is  _ possessive.  _ In fact, if Anakin has to be honest, it reminds him of himself and Padme when they were young and freshly in love—stolen kisses and smiles, little brushes of fingers, comforting touches, and seeking each other’s approval and love with just the barest of glances. Even to a blind person it would be clear that Din is in love with Luke just as much as Luke loves him, and  _ really,  _ Anakin finds that he doesn’t hate that idea.

What he does hate is that his plan of absolutely  _ despising  _ Din fails spectacularly and he finds himself, ten minutes into the dinner, thinking that Din might actually be  _ good  _ for Luke. And as any good father would, Anakin absolutely refuses that thought and clings onto the one thing that might possibly, maybe make him hate Din.

“So,” Anakin starts, dropping his fork next to the steak, “Luke told me that you’re a Mandalorian.” And those words immediately have the effect Anakin wanted. Din freezes, hand around his wine glass, and his eyes quickly glance over at Luke as if he’s looking for support. Luke takes Din’s hand in his and shoots his dad a glare.

“Um…” Din says, voice thin, and gently pulls his fingers away from the wine glass. Anakin notices that they’re shaky before Din hides them in his lap. “Uh. Yes, sir. I am.”

Huh. Anakin really didn’t expect him to say that as hesitantly as he did. He thought Din would be proud of his identity.

Anakin clears his throat and waves his fork in the air. “Tell me, how does that work exactly? I mean, it’s no secret that I’m the mayor and we don’t mix well. But Luke’s been telling me that I might’ve judged you too soon.” He offers a small laugh, trying to clear the tension, but keeps a firm gaze on Din. “So. What exactly do you do for work?” He stops eating for a moment to keep his full attention on Din.

“Uh,” Din starts, eyes flickering to Luke again, and Anakin watches as Luke brushes the back of his hand. “I, um… I mean, most Mandalorians work with the police.”

Anakin almost spurts out his wine. “With the  _ police?”  _ he asks, possibly a bit louder than necessary. Luke groans softly and drops his head into his hand, though Din doesn’t seem too bothered by it. He glances at his boyfriend, as if trying to say  _ you reacted the same way when I told you, Luke. _

“It’s an agreement,” Din says softly, turning back to Anakin, “that goes back way before my time. We, uh… Secrecy is really important for us, and in exchange for that, we help the law enforcement to keep our cities safe. Some of us have jobs with the police. Others work more on the outside.” He stops for a moment, eyes flickering to his plate. “I, uh… Work as a bounty hunter. To bring in criminals that the police don’t have the resources to catch.”

_ Resources.  _ Anakin wants to laugh. “Yeah, I’d imagine a cult with millions of dollars to throw at a  _ Ferrari  _ would have  _ more than enough resources.” _

“Dad,” Luke warns him softly, but Anakin just shakes his head.

“I mean I’m just  _ saying.  _ Mandalorians seem to have a  _ lot of money  _ for a group that’s just working with the police _. _ ” He turns back to Din, realizing that Din has completely stopped eating, his fork to the side of the plate. Gently, Din uncurls his fingers from Luke’s and hides his hands on his lap.

“Not all of our members work with the law enforcement,” he says softly. “Some of them work in other fields as well. And…” Din’s eyes shift back to his place. “And a lot of our money comes from funding. Being a Mandalorian can be, uh…a privilege. To some people.”

“So you let people pay their way in?”

_ “Dad _ ,” Luke warns again, his fingers wrapped tightly around the knife, but Anakin keeps his eyes on Din. Luke’s fingers wrap around one of Din’s hands under the table and Anakin is sure their fingers are locked together.

“There’s a vetting process for everyone,” Din tries to explain, brown eyes wide and fearful. For some reason, Anakin finds that he  _ doesn’t  _ like that look. He almost wishes that Din looked angry or defensive—that way, he’d at least have a reason to push and prod. “We don’t accept people just for their money. We have enough of our own members providing funds.”

“Oh, so you only accept people if they’re rich or if they have  _ potential _ .” Anakin straightens up, dropping his fork on the table and taps on the table. “How did you get in? Did your parents pay your way through, too?” Anakin leans in, brow arched, eyes searching Din’s face. But instead of a defensive flicker, Din’s shoulders slump and he curls into himself.

“My parents are dead,” he murmurs, so quietly that Anakin barely hears it. Still, the words are so choked with grief, so far from angry or offended, that Anakin stills. “Sir, we’re not… We’re not a cult. I know it looks like that, but… We’re just a tight-knit group that wants to make our cities a better place. I know, uh… Most people don’t like our secrecy, but that’s our strength. That’s how we stay together. That’s how we avoid corruption.” Din’s voice cracks on the last sentence and quickly, he wipes his hands on his napkin and gives Luke’s hand a squeeze. “I’ll…uh. I’ll get some fresh air, if that’s okay?”

“Din,” Luke whispers as his boyfriend stands up, but Din just offers him a smile. He uncurls his fingers from Luke’s.

“I’ll be okay. Just a few minutes.” He awkwardly turns to the table, eyes finding Padme. “The dinner was great.” No one points out that Din barely ate any of his food. “Thank you, Mrs. Skywalker.” He turns to Anakin, “Sir,” and moves away. Anakin doesn’t miss that he quickly wipes his cheek before disappearing behind the door.

The room is silent for about two seconds before Luke turns around, eyes fiery. “What the  _ fuck,  _ Dad?” he yells, his fingers tightly wrapped around the knife. Anakin thinks that for a moment, Luke might just as well stab him. “I thought you were willing to listen.”

And, well… Luke does have a point _.  _ Anakin presses his lips together. “Luke, I was just asking some questions—”

“ _ Pointed  _ questions,” Luke shoots back before Anakin can even finish. “You weren’t even listening to his answers. You just wanted to prove to yourself that Mandalorians are bad.”

“I was just telling him what I heard—”

“What you heard from  _ shitty  _ news sites and  _ biased  _ politicians, not your own son!” Luke’s voice trails off, choked with tears, and Anakin winces. He opens his mouth to say something but nothing comes out. “He’s my  _ boyfriend.  _ He came out here to meet you guys because you’re my family even though he was terrified you’d judge him for who he is, and you did exactly  _ that!  _ You didn’t even give him a chance to properly explain what being a Mandalorian means to him!”

“Well, he could’ve just—”

“What, he could’ve told you that he sees them as his  _ family?”  _ Luke snorts and looks away, eyes swimming with tears. “After what you accused him of? After you claimed he must’ve  _ bought  _ his way in?” Luke meets Anakin’s gaze, his brows furrowed and lips pressed into a tight line. This time, Anakin’s the one that looks away. “You know nothing about him. Nothing about the life that Mandalorians lead. And don’t tell me you were trying to learn, Dad, because you weren’t. You just wanted him to confirm your twisted ideas so you could hate him like you wanted to.”

“Luke.” Padme softly interrupts, dropping his fork next to her plate. Luke’s eyes flicker to his mother. “Your father and I were just making sure Din wasn’t—”

“You weren’t making sure, Mom,” Luke says, voice quieter now, and somehow that’s even  _ worse.  _ Luke looks disappointed.  _ Hurt.  _ And with a start, Anakin realizes he’s the one that put that look on Luke’s face. “You wanted to prove he wasn’t a good boyfriend. And I think you convinced him, too.” Luke ducks his chin, playing with the cloth on the table, and shakes his head.

“Luke, I…” Anakin starts but Luke just cuts him off.

“If it’s an excuse, don’t even bother.” He looks up, eyes impossibly blue with unshed tears, and something breaks in Anakin’s heart. “I told you he makes me happy. I told you he’s really, really good with me. I  _ told  _ you he was a good person and instead of me, you decided to listen to some biased opinions about Mandalorians. Din came here, decided to be vulnerable with _ you,  _ knowing you guys are politicians, because he knows I love my family, and you made him feel like he’s not welcome. You made him feel like he’s not worthy.” Luke drops his knife on the table and stands up, pushing his chair back so harshly that it almost falls down. “You owe him an apology. All of you. And you better make it  _ good.”  _ Then he disappears behind the garage door as well.

* * *

Din is crying.

It’s clear that he wants to hide it, his back turned to the garage door, sitting on the hood of the Ferrari. Still, his shoulders are shaking and before Luke closes the door behind himself, he doesn’t miss Din wiping his cheek quickly.

Luke walks up to his boyfriend and without a word, wraps his arms around Din’s waist and pulls him close.

For a moment, Din is frozen, arms limply dangling at his sides, but slowly he relaxes in Luke’s embrace. His hands come up to grab Luke’s sides and he buries his face to Luke’s shoulder, silent tears wetting Luke’s t-shirt.

“I’m sorry,” he says, voice muffled, and Luke feels something break inside.

If he could, he would  _ literally  _ smack some  _ goddamn sense  _ in his father right now, shake him until he realized Din was an amazing man and a great boyfriend. Luke moves a hand to Din’s hair and gently brushes the curls.

“I didn’t mean to leave like that,” Din continues before Luke can say anything, lifting his head so he’s facing Luke. “I just didn’t want…” He doesn’t finish the sentence and turns away, brown eyes swimming with fresh tears, and Luke gently wipes them away.

“Don’t apologize,” he whispers, letting his fingers curl over Din’s cheeks. “Please. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I shouldn’t have left—”

“You had  _ every right  _ to leave.” Luke’s voice is firm and it shuts Din up. He pulls his arms closer to himself, playing with the sleeves of the flannel, eyes cast down. Luke gently brushes his cheekbones to catch the few stray tears that are still there. “I had no idea my father was going to grill you like that. I would’ve talked to him if I knew.”

“Luke.” Din’s voice is soft and with a start, Luke realizes that his words are genuine. Din is legitimately  _ not  _ upset at Anakin. “He just wanted to make sure I was good for you—”

“Then he should’ve asked what your intentions with me were,” Luke snaps, not meaning to raise his voice. He stops and takes a deep breath when Din winces and instead focuses on Din’s eyes. “He was  _ grilling you  _ about being a Mandalorian. He wasn’t trying to understand—he just wanted to prove a point. He just wanted to justify his hate for Mandalorians.”

Din looks away again, eyes focused somewhere beyond Luke’s shoulder. He doesn’t disagree, but Luke has a feeling that he doesn’t really believe that Anakin was wrong. Luke thinks…he might just agree with Anakin that he’s not  _ worthy. _

Luke’s grip tightens around Din’s neck. “He’s  _ wrong, _ ” he repeats, moving one hand to Din’s chin so he can catch Din’s eyes. “He doesn’t know Mandalorians. He didn’t live with one for the last few months. I did. And Din, I…” Luke’s voice trails off briefly and he quickly changes his words. “I know you. I like you. No matter what Dad says.” He offers Din a smile when curious brown eyes search his face. Slowly, some tension seeps out of Din’s shoulders and he leans forward, pressing his forehead against Luke’s.

“I know they mean a lot to you,” Din says, voice choked with tears, fingers curling around Luke’s t-shirt again. “I just wanted them to like me.”

Luke feels like those words stabbed him in the chest. He shuts his eyes tightly, letting the anger that bubbled up in his stomach recede. Oh, he’s going to have another  _ long  _ talk with his father after this for making Din doubt himself, but right now is not the time. Now, Din needs him.

“They will once they give you a chance,” he promises, cupping Din’s cheeks again. “And I’ll make sure they give you one.” His lips curl into a smile before he reaches up, pressing his lips on Din’s.

The kiss starts slow at first, soft and sweet, but then Din’s hands travel down Luke’s back to his hips. Din presses Luke close enough that their chests are flushed and his tongue pushes into Luke’s mouth, swiping the roof, and a soft moan escapes Luke’s lips. Din’s hips shift against his, sending jolts of electricity up his spine, and he  _ feels  _ it—Din is  _ hard  _ against him.

Luke stills under Din’s hands, his nails digging into Din’s shoulders. Din stops, breaths labored, shoulders tense and fingers gripping Luke’s sides. Din tries to pull back, presumably to get back to dinner, but Luke doesn’t let him. Instead, he rolls his hips and a soft moan escapes Din’s lips. “Luke,” he whispers, voice tinted with a warning, but Luke shuts him up with a kiss.

“Shh, trust me,” he says against Din’s lips, fingers trailing down Din’s chest to his pants. “I got you.”

“Luke—” His voice cuts off when Luke grabs his cock through his pants, giving it a quick squeeze, and Din’s hips inadvertently thrust in Luke’s hands. “Luke, your  _ parents—” _

“They won’t come in,” Luke quickly murmurs even though  _ really,  _ there’s no way of knowing that. The thought, for some reason, doesn’t bother Luke at all—instead, he feels a shiver run down his spine in excitement. He digs his free hand into his pocket and fishes out the key to the Ferrari. “And if they do, the windows are tinted black.”

He flashes Din a smile and opens the Ferrari’s door. Din stares at him for a moment, eyes dark and needy, and it only takes another squeeze to Din’s cock to break his control. Din lets Luke push him onto the backseat of the Ferrari, one leg on the floor and other half out the car. There is barely any space but Luke pushes the front seat as far as it goes and squeezes in, fingers making quick work of Din’s jeans. He lets his fingers brush the front of Din’s underwear briefly. There’s already a wet spot and Luke smiles, pressing down on the tip, and Din’s head falls back. He muffles a moan only by pressing his face to the leather seat.

“Don’t move,” Luke orders, tugging Din’s underwear down and freeing his cock. It juts out, hard and leaking. “And keep quiet. The garage door is thin.” Luke doesn’t let Din answer before he wraps his fingers around his cock, letting the thumb brush the tip to collect the precum and smearing it down. Din’s only answer is another muffle and Luke realizes that he’s  _ biting down  _ on the seat to keep his voice down. Heat pools in Luke’s crotch at the sight and he grins, pressing a small, ghostly kiss on Din’s tip before he slowly takes him in.

Din moans again, trying to shift, but the cramped space doesn’t allow him much movement. Luke takes advantage of that, tugging Din’s jeans down a couple of inches so he can dig his nails in, right above the hip bone, extracting a muffled scream. He smiles around Din’s cock, swiping his tongue around it as he takes more of him in, fingers working the base where his mouth can’t reach.

“So needy,” he murmurs as he pulls back, letting his warm breath wash over the sensitive skin. Din’s cock twitches in his mouth and smears precum on the roof of Luke’s mouth. Luke swipes his tongue over Din’s tip, collecting the precum, and hums. “So good for me, babe,” he murmurs, this time taking more of Din in, letting his cock press against the back of his throat. He moves his tongue, sucking and licking as he starts bobbing up and down, fingers around the base following the rhythm his mouth sets.

“Luke,” Din groans, voice muffled and barely intelligible. His fingers dig into Luke’s hair, pulling at the strands, and Luke lets a small smile tug at his lips. He sucks lightly as a reward, swiping his tongue around. “Luke,  _ fuck, I’m close— _ ”

“Shh,” Luke hums, digging his nails harshly into Din’s skin again. Din lets out a short scream, muffled, and Luke can tell he’s still biting the seat. Luke twists his wrist, fingers expertly moving around the base of Din’s cock, and when he sucks one last time it pushes Din over the edge. He screams Luke’s name and comes, fingers clenched around Luke’s hair, and thrusts his hips up as he chases his climax.

Luke swipes his tongue around Din’s oversensitive cock gently before he lifts himself. Din is limp, sprawled over the backseat, head pressed against the leather, and Luke notices that there are several bite marks on the surface.

A grin pulls at his lips. He moves up and presses his lips to Din’s, fingers gently carding through his brown curls. Din’s eyes hazily flicker open and meet Luke’s. “You good?” Luke asks, tugging at the collar of Din’s flannel. Din’s eyes soften.

“Yeah.” He pulls Luke down for another kiss, his lips lingering on Luke’s. “You did that on purpose, didn’t you?” he murmurs and Luke huffs out a laugh.

“I just thought you might need to let out some tension,” he shrugs, rubbing Din’s shoulders. He gently kisses Din again, letting his lips travel up to the tip of his nose, and then his forehead. By the time he lifts himself up, Din is smiling. “And I think it worked.”

Din’s hand tightens around Luke’s side. “You’re unbelievable,” he murmurs, but there’s no anger in his voice. Just love and care and warmth that rushes through Luke. He thinks he could stay here forever, nuzzled up to Din—if not for his family waiting for them in the dining room. He sighs.

“We should probably go back,” he murmurs, but makes no movement. Din laughs, pressing a soft kiss on Luke’s hair, and gently tugs both of them up. Din’s eyes fall onto his cock, limp on his pants, and for a moment he freezes.

Luke smiles at his panic. “There’s a bathroom connected to the garage,” he informs him, fingers still playing with the flannel’s collar, “if you want to freshen up.”

Din’s relief is palpable. “Oh, thank God.”

Luke can’t help laughing.

* * *

Anakin apologizes.  _ Barely.  _ And by  _ barely,  _ Luke means that the words “I’m sorry” left his mouth at some point, even though they were quiet and rushed, before Anakin promptly changed the subject.

Still, he didn’t bring up Mandalorians again, Padme actually struck up a conversation with Din about Grogu—even Padme’s heart melted when Din took out his phone to show her pictures of the kid, and Padme and Leia spent about ten minutes cooing over the photos—and by the time dessert is served, there is no tension left in the air.

At least, until Anakin drops his fork on his empty plate. “So, am I allowed to take the Ferrari out for a test drive?” he asks, eyes glinting excitedly, and Luke pretty much chokes on his coffee in an attempt to not spurt it all out. Din’s fingers tighten around him, and even though Luke can’t see Din’s face through the tears that built up in his eyes, he’s sure Din’s thinking the same thing.

“Right now?” Din chokes out, voice thinner than usual. Anakin arches a brow.

“I mean, I wouldn’t be opposed. That’s a damn good car, Din. I just wanna take it around the block, you know.” Anakin grins. “Maybe show it to the neighbors.” Luke’s eyes desperately turn to his mother, and then to Leia, hoping for any sort of support—Padme never really did like Anakin trying to show off—but Leia has a barely suppressed smirk on her face and Padme’s eyes are narrowed. Luke gulps.

Leia and Padme know exactly why Luke doesn’t want his dad anywhere near the car, and Luke wants to disappear into the floor. He shuts his eyes, thinking about the decidedly not hidden bite marks, the warmed up seats, and  _ oh God  _ the  _ smell… _

“I mean, sir, uh… Of course you  _ can,  _ but—” Din’s panicked eyes turn to Luke, and Luke can tell he’s looking for any sort of help. Luke clears his throat and turns back to his father.

“Isn’t it a bit dark outside for a drive, Dad?” he tries to say, voice shaky and cheeks completely flushed. Leia’s brows climb to her forehead and she snorts, hiding her grin behind her hand. Oh, Luke  _ will  _ find a way to get her back for  _ that— _ he lived with Leia for too long to  _ not  _ know where she and Han did the deed. But Leia’s grin just widens when Luke shoots her a glare and she turns to Anakin.

“The street is pretty well lit, Luke. And Dad’s a good driver. I think a test drive is a  _ brilliant  _ idea. Right, Din?” She straightens her shoulders smugly, glances at Luke before she turns to Din. Din’s eyes are on Luke, panicked, and Luke quickly realizes that Din doesn’t have a choice. He can’t say no without coming off as an asshole and really, after the night they had…

“Right,” Din chokes out, cheekbones dusted red, and he squeezes Luke’s hand in his. “Right, uh, of course. A test drive…sounds great.” Anakin’s grin widens and when he attempts to stand up before Din even stops talking, Luke has to swallow back a groan.

By the time they all file into the garage, Din gripping Luke’s hand so tightly that Luke is pretty sure no blood is actually reaching his fingers, Leia seconds away from gripping at Luke’s jacket draped in front of his crotch in a desperate attempt to hide his _hardening_ cock. A part of him thinks he really _shouldn’t_ be turned on at the possibility of his father discovering what he did, but he is very, _very_ glad that he stole Din’s jacket before coming to his parents’ house.

Luke’s hands are shaky when he hands the keys to his father, eyes flickering to the backseat every now and then. He hopes it’s because he  _ knows  _ they’re there that his eyes immediately fall onto the bite marks the moment Anakin opens the door, and not because they’re obvious.

Leia steps next to Luke, arms crossed over her chest. “Hey, Dad?” she starts, cutting off Anakin’s absolute fawning over the car’s setup. Luke shoots her a warning glare that she promptly ignores. “How about I drive the car after you? You and Mom can join me in the backseat.”

_ “No,”  _ Luke blurts out inadvertently, eyes blown wide. Anakin looks over his shoulder, surprised, as Leia ducks her chin to hide her laugh.

“Is there something wrong with the backseat?” Anakin asks, turning to the backseat and Luke’s heart drops.

“No, no, there’s not!” Luke tries to say quickly, reaching to stop his father but it’s too late. Luke sees his father grimace.

“Huh, the car’s oddly warm,” he comments and Luke knows they’re done for. “And did you guys leave some food here or something? There’s an odd  _ smell.” _

Leia barks out a laugh with that, not even bothering to hide it, and Luke sees his mother drop her face in her hands. His eyes flutter closed, jacket still firmly draped over his crotch, and by  _ God  _ he wishes he would be struck by lightning or something to escape. He thinks there’s no way it can get any  _ worse— _

“Are those  _ teeth marks?” _ And no, Luke was wrong. It definitely  _ can  _ get worse. He feels Leia’s eyes on him and when he turns to her, she mouths  _ teeth marks,  _ and yes, Luke definitely wants to die right now.

“My son,” Din says weakly. “He likes to…bite.” Which, really, isn’t technically a lie, except Grogu’s never been in the Ferrari and, well…

“Huh. These seem to be kinda big, but I guess…” Anakin’s voice trails off and he slams his head to the roof of the car as he tries to pull back. He lets out a grunt and a curse before he turns around, blue eyes wide, and stares at Din and Luke.

“Oh,” Anakin says softly “You guys did…” He doesn’t continue, but he doesn’t have to. Luke’s eyes flicker shut and he ducks his chin.

“Sir, I…” Din’s voice is thin and rough at the same time. “I can explain. We were just… I mean, we wanted to—No, we didn’t want to, we just thought…” His voice trails off because  _ really,  _ there’s no excuse, and Luke thinks _ we’re adults  _ won’t cut considering they’re at his parents’ house for a  _ family dinner.  _ “I’m so sorry,” Din finishes, voice apologetic, and loosens his grip around Luke’s hand as if he wants to pull back. And really, Luke can’t blame him. He opens his eyes, turning to his father who’s staring at them with parted lips. Around the car, Padme is hiding a grin behind her hand—well, at least  _ one  _ of his parents finds it amusing—and Leia is full on cackling, arms crossed, zero regrets on her face.

Anakin clears his throat finally. “You know, it  _ is _ a good car,” he says with a shrug, voice surprisingly calm. Luke arches a brow as a grin appears on Anakin’s face. “If it was up to me, I wouldn’t have missed the opportunity either.”

“ _ Dad,”  _ Luke complains, trying to get rid of the image of his mother and father  _ in a fancy car  _ and shakes his head.

“Hey, I will have you know, we never left bite marks behind.”

“I never did,” Padme calls out, brow arched. “I remember you ruining a few seats.” And  _ really,  _ that’s already a lot more than Luke wants to know. He hears Din chuckle next to him, relief palpable on his face, and shoots Din a glare. All Din offers him is a shrug and Luke has to roll his eyes.

“I hate you all,” he murmurs, ducking his chin. The only response is a collective laugh.

* * *

Palpatine is in the middle of a meditation when he gets the call.

One of the guards knocks, the pattern recognizable, and Palpatine cracks open an eye. The guard brings in a phone and hands it to Palpatine, firmly locking the cell door behind him before he leaves. Palpatine brings the phone to his ear.

“The deal’s off,” a voice hisses, and Palpatine immediately recognizes it. He arches a brow.

“Good evening to you, too, dear,” he says calmly. The caller barks out a laugh.

“I’m serious, Palpatine. Deal’s off. We’re not going against Skywalkers.”

Palpatine tilts his head. “And pray tell me, why? I am paying you generously for this, you know.”

“Not generously  _ enough. _ Not for this.” And Palpatine can hear it. The caller is  _ terrified.  _ “Skywalkers are in bed with the Mandalorians.”

For the first time, Palpatine’s shoulders tense. He presses the phone tightly into his ear. “How sure are you?”

“Pretty fucking sure. The fucking  _ Mand’alor  _ just had dinner with the Skywalkers. The deal’s  _ off _ , Palpatine.” The call is silent for a few seconds before Palpatine opens his mouth.

“How much more money do you want?” he asks quietly. The caller laughs.

“To make an enemy of the Mandalorians? No money’s worth that, old man.”

“Listen to me—”

“No. Off is  _ off, _ ” the caller hisses. “Good luck.” And the call ends. Palpatine stares at the burner phone for a few seconds before he clenches his teeth.

The phone breaks on the wall and falls down in pieces. 


End file.
